TATF BACK UP
by You'reABirdOfTheSummer
Summary: DO NOT READ THIS unless i cut you off mid story from my other Tearing at the Fabric with an ill timed rewrite. here are the other chapters. sorry oxoxoxox
1. Chapters 3 to 10

**Chapter Three – Sorting Things Out**

Dumbledore's office naturally had all the best protective charms and wards of the time in place, and he and Hermione made sure when they arrived that the best the nineties had to offer were now protecting the room too. They were rummaging through the contents of Hermione's bag when there was a loud knock on the wooden door. Hermione hastily shoved the invisibility cloak back into her satchel and her and Cedric seated themselves and tried to look casual.

On Dumbledore's call Dippet entered the office, he strode into the room and conjured a seat for himself, before he sat he extended his hand to Cedric.

"Headmaster Armando Dippet," he said. "How do you do."

"How do you do Professor," Cedric said shaking his hand. "Cedric Amos."

Hermione smiled fondly at his use of his late father's name. She knew how Cedric cherished his father's memory, the first person to ever believe in him and be proud of his achievements. She shuddered to remember how distraught he was when he learned of his murder, he had sobbed for days with only Hermione to comfort him.

"Hermione Wembdon," she said politely, withdrawing from her thoughts, as the headmaster extended his hand to her. When she was a little girl her best friend had originally come from a village called Wembdon, somewhere in Somerset and for some reason Hermione was always drawn to the name.

"A pleasure," he said wearily as he sat in his newly conjured chair. "Now Dumbledore, shall we get them sorted quickly?"

"I do believe we should headmaster," Dumbledore said. "I hope you will consent to them staying in their dorms over the summer. I assure you they are the most responsible and pleasant young people in my acquaintance and I am quite averse to having them out of my sight after I went to so much trouble to find them. I shall tell you the entire story over dinner of course, it is long and I'm sure you have much important business to attend to, I would hate to rush it and not give it the justice it deserves but I will allude to the fact that when I found them, they were on the run, camping in the Albanian forests to be exact. Hermione here thought I was one of the dark wizards pursuing them and stunned me. It was only after they came to look at who I was that they recognized me."

"You Dumbledore! This young lady managed to stun a wizard of your calibre?" Dippet said in awe.

"She did indeed, and repaired the cut I received from the fall," Dumbledore said happily, looking at Hermione with pride, who blushed and averted her gaze to floor.

"I'm awfully sorry again," Hermione said quietly. "If I'd have known…"

"Not at all my dear girl, it is better to be safe than sorry after all," Dumbledore said generously. "Come, come," he said eagerly opening a drawer and pulling out two quills. "Name anything headmaster and they shall transfigure it for you. They are truly extraordinary students."

"Uncle Albus," Cedric hissed. "We are not here to show off."

"My my!" Dippet exclaimed. "Modest are we my boy, do transfigure a… raven."

"As you wish Professor," Cedric sighed, casting Dumbledore a pointed look that he knew Dippet would see. With a flick of his wand the quill grew fluidly into a large, black, shiny raven.

"Excellent!" Dippet said happily. "Truly excellent. Miss Wembdon, can you match your friend? A parrot perhaps?"

"What colour Sir?" she asked.

"Green," he laughed. Hermione swept her wand through the air, with a popping noise a parrot emerged from the puff of smoke which was created by the spell.

"My, my!" the elderly gentleman exclaimed. "Silent transfiguration at your age! Both very different styles of magic as well. We must sort you immediatly!" With a satisfied smile Dumbledore summoned the battered hat.

First he placed it on Cedric's head whilst Dippet watched in interest; of course he didn't see the conversation which occurred inside his head.

"_Isn't this interesting_," a small voice said in Cedric's ear. "_Dumbledore's doing I don't doubt…anyway, where to put you, I see you were once put in Hufflepuff by my own verdict…you are definitely loyal, but you also seem to be intelligent and brave. More so than the first time I'd say, you've changed it seems_."

'_Please, Gryffindor' _Cedric thought desperately, they had a plan after all. Cedric and Hermione needed to be together and having Dumbledore as their head of house would make their lives here so much easier.

"_Gryffindor you say_?" The hat mused. "_Very well, I can't argue with that_ GRYFFINDOR!" He smiled in relief as Dumbledore lifted the hat from his hair.

"Hermione dear," Dumbledore said beckoning her. "You're next." She rose from her seat and crossed the room, Cedric smiled slightly as he saw her looking nervous. She was acting her part well. She bit her lip as she stood before Dumbledore and wrung her hands as it dropped softly onto her head. It barely touched her before shouting it's previous remark. She also smiled in relief and Cedric hugged her tightly, whispering congratulations in her ear.

"You can tell they are relatives of yours Albus," the headmaster sighed. "Very well, very well."

"They are indeed," he replied proudly, although the pair both knew it was more jubilation at their plan having succeeded so far. "I must speak with you about their progress next year, I wish nothing more than for them to be prefects, Cedric here would make a fine Head Boy you know."

"Dumbledore they don't even know their way around the castle yet," he responded.

"Ah, but by September they will, and we have had separate seventh year house prefects and Head Boys before, and the current prefect Miss Groves is transferring to Beauxbatons for her sixth year, Hermione would fit right into that slot."

"We will discuss it later Dumbledore, I shall see what I can do," he sighed.

"Thank you Headmaster," Dumbledore said, bowing his head respectfully before turning to Hermione and Cedric with a grin. "I think the two of you should go and see Gryffindor tower before your housemates leave in the morning. The password is conatus tempus, the fat lady portrait on the seventh floor corridor, take the grand staircase for now and ask someone if you get lost." Dumbledore said with a smile, although he knew full well Hermione knew the way to the common room like the back of her hand.

"Yes Uncle Albus," Cedric said. "Thank you for your time headmaster."

"You're very welcome my dear boy, it was a pleasure indeed," Dippet said fondly. Hermione had to supress a smirk at Cedric already charming the old wizard, she was contented with smiling politely.

"Do have an early night, you've had a long day after all, I shall have some supplies sent to your dorms to use until we have journeyed to Diagon Alley," Dumbledore said. They both smiled and nodded before taking their leave and exiting Dumbledore's office.

"So," Cedric said in a hushed voice offering his arm to Hermione. "That went smoothly."

"Indeed it did," she replied, wrapping her arm around his. They walked closely down the corridor, so they could whisper. "Although now we have a more difficult task."

"Getting the Gryffindors to like us?"

"Precisely," she agreed. "Although I don't doubt you shall easily win over the female population." She turned and glanced at him, his jaw was clenched as he tried not to smile.

"Watch it Granger," he said good humouredly.

"Or what Ceddy-baby," she mocked, flicking her hair exaggeratedly and pouting at him.

He stole a glance at her and his stony exterior crumbled as he let out a loud laugh, which Hermione couldn't help but laugh along with. They were still laughing as the corridor they were walking along joined with another coming from the Entrance Hall. As they passed this fork in the road they caught a glimpse of a tall, pale boy with thick black curls and immaculate robes.  
Hermione felt Cedric's posture stiffen and his arm tighten around her own. Hermione gasped as she felt his magic crackle and spike around her, instead of the usual gentle flow of warmth.

"Keep walking," she murmured under her breath. He nodded shortly and they quickened their pace. They walked the rest of the corridor in silence and once Hermione thought the corridor was deserted enough that they wouldn't be overheard she pulled Cedric into an alcove. His jaw was set and his eyes had a cold, unyielding look about them.

"Cedric," she whispered, clutching his large hands in her own, he didn't look down at her. "Cedric," she repeated more forcefully. She saw him swallow and cast his eyes down at her, she squeezed his hands.

"He killed my parents Granger, all my family and friends…everyone I love. Everyone except you," he whispered angrily, but Hermione could hear the despair and longing in his tone.

"No Cedric," Hermione said in an undertone, shaking her head and trying to dispel his misery. "Not yet. He won't anymore, we won't let him. Everyone is safe; it's us that have the upper hand here. Everyone will be protected as long as we are here, we can stop everything bad that happened. You _have _to remember what Albus said, he is just a boy at the moment, and we can stop him. We are going to." She looked pleading up at him, searching for some kind of sign in his face that he understood. "You and me Ced," she whispered tenderly, placing a hand on his smooth cheek. "You and me can fight anything that comes our way. You know that."

"I do, I know that," Cedric said with a nod, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again he saw Hermione looking at him anxiously and immediately regretted making her expression tight and her brow furrow. He sighed slowly and his muscles relaxed as he put his arms round her.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," she replied as she squeezed him comfortingly. "I'd think you were a robot if you didn't have any emotions about this. It's difficult, but that's why I'm here for every time it gets a bit too difficult for you to handle on your own." He ran his hands up and down her back as they embraced before withdrawing his head to look at her, though still holding her within his strong arms.

"Thank you," he said sincerely a look of humble gratitude exuding from his eyes.

"You're welcome," she said soothingly. "As I said-"

"You and me," he finished for her in a whisper which sounded more like a prayer, words of worship, a small smile playing about his lips.

"That's right," they stood there for a minute looking into each other's' eyes. "Come on," she said eventually, tugging at his arm. "Let's go and meet the Gryffindors."

**Chapter Four- Gryffindor Camaraderie**

A hush came over the circular common room as Hermione and Cedric entered, it was only half full but still the rowdy students created a lot of noise. Hermione uncomfortably scratched her arm as they were met by the curious stares of the students, but Cedric seemed immune to the uneasiness she felt at such attention.

"Hello," he said happily, there was a hesitation in the crowd until finally a boy with red hair and freckles stepped out. He was burly and had the obvious Quidditch player physique.

"Septimus Weasley, fifth year," he said in welcome, smiling broadly at the pair. "You must be Cedric and Hermione, new Gryffindors?" He asked as he shook both their hands.

"Yes," Hermione said as she shook hands with the boy. "Dippet just sorted us."

"Did you hear that boys?" Weasley called over his shoulder. "Both in Gryffindor, all bet money will paid in full by the end of the train journey tomorrow." He then looked back to Cedric and Hermione, a faint blush visible beneath the freckles. "Just the regular pool," he laughed awkwardly. "Earning a few sickles."

Hermione smiled broadly at him, it reminded her very much of the Weasley antics she had previously witnessed in this very common room, though the first time she had been much less accommodating to their gambling. Septimus smiled again, more comfortably this time since he had seen that neither Hermione nor Cedric had been offended by their exploits.

"Come on I'll introduce you to everyone. Where had Venres got to? My twin brother, useless waste of space that one." He joked scanning the room. "Ah, there he is. OI. VEN! GET OVER HERE!" Another redhead pushed his way through the common room, he looked very similar to Septimus but he was slightly taller and he had a faint scar on his left cheek.

"How can I help you Seppy," he said as he sauntered over to his brother and leaned casually on his shoulder.

"Don't you have any manners? We have new blood in the house and you haven't yet welcomed them," he chided, sending a smirk Hermione's way.

"Venres Weasley," he said happily, shaking hands with Cedric and bowing flamboyantly to Hermione before placing a kiss on her hand. "Older brother of dear Seppy here, who you have obviously had the pleasure of acquainting yourselves with already. I am the resident lord and genius of all things hilarious here in the tower, with the aid of my humble and devoted servant Seppy here of course." He flashed his brother a grin earning himself a whack round the head.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Hermione said with a smile.

"I like this one," Venres said aside to his brother, in a stage whisper. "It's about time we had a sexy new Gryffindor in our year." He grinned and winked cheekily at Hermione who blushed slightly but took it in the good-humour in which it was meant. Septimus rolled his eyes and gave his brother another whack.

"I apologize for my brother, but now you're one of us you'll have to get used to it. All for one and one for all and all that, Gryffindor camaraderie is what we pride ourselves here in our impenetrable tower, we're all friends here," he said loudly, embellishing his speech with a sweeping hand gesture about the room, before turning to Cedric. "You're in the year above us aren't you?" Cedric replied that he was indeed and the two Weasleys ushered the pair off to be introduced to everyone in the common room, of course they made it an overly formal and silly affair.

When Dumbledore entered the common room two hours later he found Hermione sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace. She was sat cross legged talking animatedly with Venres Weasley, his friends Robert Wolfe and Theo James and a girl in her dorm, Maggie Lawson.

Cedric on the other hand was leaning casually against the far wall of the common room surrounded by girls who were twirling their hair and batting their eyelashes shamelessly. With a loud cough Dumbledore brought the attention of the students away from the novelty of their new housemates and toward their head of house who stood by the entrance to the common room. As they heard him many students jumped up from their lounging positions and smoothed their clothes self-consciously.

Every single couple in the room stealthily removed themselves from one another and shuffled a little to create distance between them in the presence of the professor. He however just smiled warmly at the students, who were obviously not accustomed to his presence in their common room.

"Don't be alarmed," he said cheerily. "I am not here to scold you or give you detention for intimacy, you may… canoodle all you like. It's your common room after all." He winked at some of the couples in the room. "I have merely come to apologize for my extended absence this academic year, promise that I shall be present to assist all of you in your learning come September and wish you all a pleasant summer." There was a nervous murmur of thanks from the crowd. "That's not the spirit, you should all be ecstatic you have a break from your studies, and what with the seventh years already gone, you should be celebrating your month of freedom. Now let me see what I can do to help." He smiled and flicked his wand, giant kegs of Butterbeer appeared in the centre of the common room and he conjured a large wooden table laden with food. "I'm sure none of you need an excuse for a party," he said happily clapping his hands together. "Mr and Mr Weasley I am sure I can rely on you to provide an evening of music and entertainment for your peers, there will be no need for you to attend dinner this evening. Do enjoy yourselves for one can never waste time if it is spent enjoying the company of ones friends."

"Yes Sir," the twins said, jumping up simultaneously into a salute.

"Excellent, excellent," Dumbledore said as he surveyed the incredulous, yet pleased expression of his house. "Cedric, Hermione may I speak with you in the corridor, it will take just a moment of your time, then you may re-join your fellows in merriment."

Once outside in the empty corridor he beckoned them closer to him.

"Our plan is going to schedule so far, Dippet has agreed to make you both prefects, you will have to attend a prefect meeting tomorrow morning at nine in his office, there he will announce Head Boy and Girl. The first of which I have… persuaded him to make you Cedric, you may go and spread the news of your new found authority to your house but you must not mention being Head Boy, that is a secret until tomorrow. Do you understand?" he whispered, they both nodded. "Excellent, we are to put the next stage of the plan into practice tomorrow during the meeting. You remember what your duties are Hermione?"

"Of course," she replied.

"Then I shall let you get back to your party, good luck to you both," he said with a smile, his eyes twinkling.

"Well done Albus," Cedric said, clapping the wizard on the back. "You seemed to have done your job perfectly."

"Ah yes, so it seems but I had the relatively easy task," he said sombrely. "I do not envy the two of you."

Hermione and Cedric walked with Theo and Claudia through the castle to Dippet's office the next morning. Theo and Claudia were clutching their heads and stifling yawns as they trudged exhaustedly through the corridors, they had both had a little too much of the Weasleys' smuggled fire whiskey, the party had raged on until the early hours of the morning. On the train at noon there would be many the hung over and napping Gryffindor. Cedric and Hermione had restrained themselves however and had been some of the first to go bed having had only a few drinks, the others all conceded that they had been travelling in the morning so probably needed a good sleep and had respected their wishes in not trying to make them stay up very late.

"So you finally get to meet the prefects from other houses," Claudia said sleepily. "We don't find out who the new fifth year ones are till September though, they get owl post in the summer."

"It's very exciting," Hermione agreed.

"I wonder who will be chosen to be Head Boy and Girl," Theo wondered aloud.

"As long it's not a Slytherin," Claudia groaned. "Can you imagine?"

"It could be you," Hermione pointed out. Claudia snorted.

"I don't think so somehow, I think they regret even making me a prefect now, my bet is on Clarissa, the Ravenclaw," she replied.

"It could be," Theo said with a nod. "I'm sure we will soon find out."

Hermione and Cedric shared a glance and the corners of her mouth upturned minutely, just enough for Cedric to see.

"So how do you like everyone in Gryffindor so far?" Theo asked.

"Very much, Venres and Septimus are very funny," Hermione said.

"Two peas in a pod those two," Claudia said with a nod. "This one time, they snuck a Niffler into the Slytherin common room. You can imagine the chaos, it was the funniest thing I have ever seen."

They continued through the castle listening to Claudia retelling the pranks the Weasley twins had pulled. Hermione felt her heart pang as she mentally compared them to Fred and George, how she missed them. One look at Cedric and she knew he was thinking the same thing; they had also been friends, being in many of the same classes. He was looking down at the floor as he walked, a subtly sad and nostalgic expression on his face. Hermione swallowed and tried not to let the loss of her friends get to her.

They were on a mission after all.

**Chapter Five- Influence or Manipulation**

As the Gryffindors stepped into the Headmasters office Hermione felt a prickle on the back of her neck, she could feel that Cedric's magic was becoming angry, it radiated off him. Scanning the room, her eyes settled on the reason for this sudden change in his usual calm and cheery demeanour. A certain Slytherin, Hermione sighed and grasped his hand gently. Cedric looked down at her and squeezed her hand briefly.

"I'm okay," he whispered shortly. "Completely fine." Hermione gave him a supportive smile and dropped his hand as they made their way over to the remaining chairs, directly next to Tom Riddle. Hermione groaned internally and deliberately took the seat next to him, she wasn't having Cedric sit there. She glanced at the boy next to her, his handsome face was set in an expression of interest as he waited for the headmaster to begin talking, though she knew better than to think it more than a façade. As she was calculating him his eyes turned toward her, as if he could sense her gaze. His dark eyes pierced hers and she felt a strange feeling of nervousness in the pit of her stomach, fortunately she was saved the embarrassment of him asking why she was staring at him, as the headmaster had entered the room and all eyes were averted toward him. Hermione only half listened to the speech Dippet was giving, he seemed very self-important in her opinion, she did not think highly of him.

She was however brought out of her own musings when Cedric's name was called out. She saw Cedric frown and his mouth open in surprise, but he quickly recovered himself enough to look at her and then Dumbledore as he rose from his seat. Hermione smiled proudly at him as he walked across to the headmaster's desk to receive his Head Boy badge. He had carefully mastered his look of astonishment at being chosen, so not to seem arrogant by the other students. As Claudia had predicted the Ravenclaw girl, Clarissa was chosen to be Head Girl and soon the meeting was paused so Dippet could speak to his new Head Boy and Girl. Hermione sat in silence by herself, gazing about the room.

"You're the new girl right?" A deep, silky voice to her left asked.

"Yes," she replied without looking toward the person speaking, though she knew exactly who it was.

"Tom Riddle," he said, extending a hand to her. Hermione paused before taking his hand.

"Hermione Wembdon," she said simply.

"Shakespearean?" he asked as he shook her hand.

"The Winter's Tale," she replied. There was short pause.

"What house have you been sorted into?" Tom Riddle asked conversationally.

"Gryffindor," she replied, finally making eye contact with the boy next to her.

"Should have guessed," he said with a smirk. "What with you being one of Dumbledore's."

"He is my godfather," Hermione said in a blasé tone. "He was the one who insisted Cedric and I came to Hogwarts." She said nodding toward him talking to Dippet.

"You get to stay at Hogwarts over the summer," Tom stated, agitation leaking slightly into his tone.

"Forced to stay in the castle more like," Hermione sighed. "Old codger went to all the trouble of finding us, he won't let us out of his sight. At least the library is second to none, I can tell how I shall be spending my time." Tom snorted. "Why, do you want to stay at Hogwarts?" Tom stayed silent for a minute.

"Of course I do," he said quietly. "Unfortunately not all of us are related to Professors and get that honour." Now it was Hermione's turn to smirk.

"Are you telling me you really want to stay cooped up in this castle all summer?" Hermione asked him. He nodded curtly. "Fine then," she said with a shrug. "You can."

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning at her

"You can stay at Hogwarts for the summer," Hermione said. Tom laughed coldly.

"And what makes you think you have the power to let me stay, Dumbledore has made it very clear from my first year that I would have to return to London in the summer holiday," he said disdainfully.

"Listen Riddle, do you honestly want to stay here. I mean no going back on your word, want to stay here?" She asked.

"Yes," he said tersely, gritting his teeth together. Hermione smirked which seemed to infuriate him.

"Watch and learn Mr Riddle," Hermione said breezily as she rose from her chair and walked gracefully over to Dumbledore.

Riddle watched in fascination as he saw her tap the professor on the shoulder, the old man beamed as he saw who disturbing him from his conversation and laid a hand on her shoulder in a fatherly gesture. She leaned in toward the man and whispered in his ear for some time, Tom was very astounded to see Dumbledore looked surprised but not immediately opposed to whatever it was she was saying, he was even nodding along to her words. When she had finished speaking Dumbledore frowned and looked earnestly at her, before asking her a question which she nodded at. With a shrug he gave her a small smile and followed her over to where Tom was sat.

"Mr Riddle," he addressed with a nod. "I wish you stay after this meeting with Professor Dippet and I to discuss your stay here over the summer. If you agree to a few terms I see no problem with you staying in your dormitory and not having to go to the orphanage this summer." Riddle replied with a nod of bewilderment. Hermione meanwhile was stood next to the transfiguration teacher with a smug smile on her face.

"Thank you Professor," he managed to say, none of his usual hate for the teacher evident in his tone, he seemed too shocked.

"Excellent," Dumbledore replied before turning away from Riddle. "Hermione dear I wish to take you and Cedric to Diagon Alley on Thursday, we must go to Gringotts as soon as possible and I wish for Ollivander to take a look at both your wands, check they are in good working order."

"Thank you Uncle Albus, I shall tell Cedric and make sure he is ready," Hermione said with a sweet smile. Dumbledore squeezed her shoulders and took leave of the pair of them. As soon as his back was turned Hermione's sweet smile slid into a smug smirk.

"How did you do that?" Tom asked her as she sat back down in her seat.

"By asking," she said innocently. Tom snorted and raised his eyebrows at her. "Fine," she conceded. "A little persuasion."

"And by that you mean manipulation?" he asked. Hermione rolled her eyes and cast Tom a look.

"I can't help it if the old fool wants to appease his beloved goddaughter as an apology for his previous conduct, and grant her every whim and fancy, just to ensure she doesn't resent him." Riddle raised his eyebrows again as he studied her.

"I've heard a lot of rumours about you Miss Wembdon, none of which suggested you were this manipulative and devious," he said. Hermione could not help but let out a laugh.

"I prefer the term influential, and after one evening in Gryffindor tower you expect me to have heard no rumours about your serpentine cunning?" she asked. Tom's mouth pulled involuntarily upward at the corners, but he could not answer due to the continuation of the meeting, Dippet had continued droning on about rules. Cedric fell into the chair beside her and gave her a wide grin, slinging his arm round the back of her seat. Hermione noticed with satisfaction that Tom stiffened slightly and his brow furrowed as he saw Cedric's easy manner of joining Hermione.

When the meeting was finally over Cedric was called over by Clarissa again to be introduced to her Ravenclaw friends, Tom stood briskly and nodded to Hermione.

"It was a _pleasure _Miss Wembdon," he said sardonically.

"The_ pleasure _was all mine Mr Riddle," Hermione replied with equal sarcasm.

"I may have the enormous privilege of seeing you around the castle in the summer," he replied, to which she shrugged nonchalantly.

"I don't know about that Mr Riddle, it's a rather large castle," she replied with false sweetness dripping from her tone. Cedric took this moment to re-join Hermione.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said stiffly.

"Not at all Cedric, there was nothing to interrupt," Hermione said flippantly.

"Shall we go then?" he asked.

"Yes," she said with a broad smile, taking his offered arm. She nodded politely to Tom who's eyes were narrowed at the contact their skin was making. The pair had walked a few paces when suddenly Hermione stopped and turned back to Tom.

"Oh and you're welcome," she said warmly, despite the fact that Tom had not thanked her in the slightest. "It was a _pleasure._" With another smirk Hermione was sure Tom saw, she and Cedric carried on their way.

**Chapter Six- Haunted by Pain**

"_You're a filthy muggle whore!"_

_Hermione looked up at the witch with swollen eyes, which she could hardly open. Her whole face was grazed and bruised; blood was dripping from her mouth and onto the hard cold flagstones on which she was lying, her leg sticking out at an odd and grotesque angle beneath her. She shook her head in defiance._

_"I am not a filthy muggle whore!" she tried to shout, though it came out as barely more than a whisper._

_"What's that mudblood? You dare talk back to me?" Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked, her once attractive features contorted and tainted by darkness and hatred. "You. Are. A. Filthy. Muggle. Whore." She punctuated each word with a swift, hard kick to her stomach. Hermione cried out in pain as she doubled over and grasped her ribs, she could feel them shatter behind the force of Bellatrix's booted foot. "Now!" Screamed the witch as she dragged Hermione up by her hair. "Tell me where Potter and Dumbledore are hiding."_  
_Hermione shook her head desperately._

_"I'd rather die," she croaked. A sadistic smile crept across the older witch's face as she dropped her to the ground again and she crumpled like a rag doll on the hard stone._

_"Now, now sweetie that will be arranged, would be much more appealing than having your unclean blood on my floors," she said in a sickly sweet voice as she paced about in front of her. "But seeing as you shall not respond to my gentle questioning, I shall summon the Dark Lord. See if he can make your dirty tongue talk. " She cackled manically as she raised her sleeve and pressed down on the obscene tattoo on her forearm._

_Hermione's breath hitched in her throat as she felt Voldemort's presence in the room, his dark magic span around him like a mighty tempest. He looked down at her crumpled body on the floor and turned her over onto her back with the tip of his shoe._

_"The Granger girl?" he asked Bellatrix simply his eyes not leaving her mangled form._

_"Yes my lord," Bellatrix simpered. "She refuses to talk; I thought maybe your expertise would make her tell us what we need to know."_

_"You have crucioed her?" he asked Bellatrix in his usual derisive tone._

_"Naturally," came her reply. "Since nine o'clock last night.'_

_"And yet after thirteen hours the Granger girl does not betray her friends…" he mused. "I admire your determination Granger, but your courage is misplaced. If you were not of inferior birth I would have undoubtedly made use of you within my ranks. Pity. You're easier on the eye than dear Bella here." He cackled cruelly, ignoring the look of scorn on the witch's face next to him and the gags of repulsion of the one on the floor. He then bent down low to a sobbing Hermione. "Granger do you remember the last time we met?" He whispered, she nodded feebly. "Do you remember how much it hurt? Do you remember the spells I used on you?" She again nodded. "You tell me Potter and Dumbledore's whereabouts and I will spare you that agony… and just kill you."_

_"I will never betray them," she managed to declare. "Do what you will to me. I would go through anything to keep them safe."_

_"I shall offer you this choice only once more Miss Granger… let's see if I can persuade you to cooperate," he whispered to her. "You shall kneel at my feet whilst I curse you," he said loudly, rising to his usual imposing height. She did not move, but more silent tears streamed down her cheeks, as she prayed he would kill her soon. She was expecting the cold bony hands of Death Eaters to pull her brusquely into a kneeling position, but instead she felt the gentle grip of an indeed bony yet small and warm hand. She dared to open her eyes and through the blur of tears she saw bright shining green eyes._

_"You are safe Miss," was what she heard as she felt the immense pressure of apparation on her beaten frame._

_"Hermione!" she heard._

_"Hermione!"_

"Hermione!" She was being shaken gently. Her breathing was laboured and her muscles were in spasm as the room swam into view.

"Hermione," she heard again.

"Cedric," she cried, flinging her arms round his broad, muscular shoulders and clinging tightly to him.

"What it another dream?" He asked worriedly, wrapping her in his arms. She nodded into the hollow of his shoulder. "It's alright," he whispered soothingly. "It's alright, it's over. All over." She nodded again, trying to pull herself together after one of the dreams that had been plaguing her periodically for so long now.

"I'm sorry," she said croakily. "I'm being ridiculous."

"No," Cedric said. "No, you can't stop the memories finding you in your dreams."

They sat like that for a while, arms around each other until Hermione thought herself calmed down enough.  
They had been sat in the Room of Requirement, just reading on one of the sofas, when Hermione had dozed off on Cedric's shoulder and had been assaulted by the barrage of memories which had ruined their otherwise pleasant morning. If only she hadn't been up so late replying Venres' owl post last night.

"I'm going to start that essay on Murtlap," Hermione informed Cedric, with a deep breath she rose from the comfy sofa.

"You sure?" he asked in concern.

"Yes, I need something to occupy my mind," Hermione said. "I'm going to go and get some books from the library." Cedric nodded and she made her way over to the door.

"Granger," he called after her.

"Hmm?" She spun round to look at him.

"You're wearing jeans," he said with an amused smile on his face. Hermione brought a hand up to her forehead, how could she forget? She had changed into a more comfortable pair of jeans as they were just in the room of requirement and her hair was in a low ponytail. She couldn't risk being seen by anyone walking around the castle in trousers, let alone denim. With a flick of her wand her dark jeans and jumper changed into a navy blue skirt and a white, sleeveless blouse. She pulled the hair band out of her curls and let them hang loosely around her face.

"Thanks Ced," she said with a wave, before exiting the room.

**Chapter Seven –Nothing but a Half-truth**

She was still shaking slightly as she perused the Herbology section of the library, it was just her luck that the book she needed, _Magical Water Plants of The Oceans _was at the very top of the towering shelf. Her wand was in it's holster so without much hesitation she flicked her wrist and the thick book came soaring into her hand.

"Did you just use wandless magic?" Came a deep voice from behind her. Hermione screamed and jumped backward. Then on seeing that no one was about to murder her she swore loudly and held her hand against her beating heart.

"Hello to you too," Tom drawled.

"Sorry," Hermione replied breathlessly. "My nerves are a little on edge today."

"You don't say," Tom said sarcastically. With a few more deep breaths Hermione continued to the Magical Creatures section, where she would find a book dedicated to Murtlaps.

"What can I do for you Riddle," Hermione said steadily.

"I um…" he said hesitantly. She span round and with wide eyes watched Tom Riddle rub the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I guess I thought that I should… thank you." He said the word thank as though it was a terrible curse word, and then looked about lest anyone else could have heard him.

"What?" Hermione gasped.

"Thank you," he repeated under his breath, not making eye contact with her. "For convincing Dumbledore to let me stay… here… in the castle…in summer."

"You're…welcome?" Hermione managed to utter. They then stood stock still in an awkward silence, neither of them making eye contact. Hermione was too amazed at how Tom had thanked her for something, and it seemed he was a little astounded as well. Eventually she took a deep breath and turned back to the bookshelf, pulling them both from their reveries. She pulled _An In-Depth Guide to Murtlap and Other Magical Rodents _from the shelf and carried on walking to the potions section of the library.

"What books are you taking out?" He asked suspiciously as he fell into step beside her. She flashed him the covers. "Why?"

Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes, before swallowing dryly.

"Early last year, Cedric got hit by this cutting hex, it sliced right through his arm. We were alone in the middle of an Albanian forest with no choice but to stay put. I did everything I could to help him, but I wasn't yet very good at healing spells, they take a lot of practice. I did my best and it kind of worked okay, the flesh knitted back together." Then her voice dropped to a regretful whisper. "He was in so much pain, I tried to give him pain relief spells and potions but the wound was cursed and wouldn't react to that kind of magic. I thought that if I could soothe the actual flesh it would feel better, so I tried to make Murtlap Essence, but after missing so much of my education I didn't know the correct way to. I tried my best but it was wrong. It just made the wound reopen and turn septic. I felt terrible, and while he never blames me at all, he is always so grateful for me having tried, every time I look at that scar on his forearm I recoil at the thought that if I had known how to make Murtlap Essence he wouldn't have had to go through all that agony. It's a terrible feeling knowing you've caused someone you love pain, so I promised myself as soon as I was able to see the books I would learn to brew it, so I was never in that position again."

That was only a half-lie. The whole cutting hex thing had happened, and it had left a scar but it wasn't due to Hermione's spells, which were nothing short of perfect, or the fact that she brewed a bad Murtlap Essence, for that too was faultless - she had been making it for years after all. It was just one of those wounds that created scars.  
But she couldn't have Tom know that Dumbledore had secretly told them every essay they would have to write over the year so they could get a head start over the summer. That would not go down well at all.

"That suggests one of the many rumours I heard before our classmates departed is true then," he replied. Hermione shook herself out of her self-evaluating to answer.

"What rumours have you heard?" she asked, picking up the book she was looking for.

"There was one that you were Dumbledore's illegitimate child, one that you were victims of the muggle war in France, one that you were pregnant with Dumbledore's child, one that you were on the run because you had stolen a dragon from the Bulgarian government, one that you-"

"I get the idea," she said shortly. "None of those are true."

"They're all lies?"

"Well, some of them are half-truths," Hermione said, as she watched Tom's eyebrows shoot up his forehead.

"Do continue."  
Hermione sighed.

"Well, I'm not pregnant, Dumbledore is not my father, I've got nothing to do with any muggle wars and I've never stolen a _Bulgarian_ dragon." Tom smirked and rolled his eyes at her. '_If only he knew the half of it' _Hermione thought.

"And I thought you were different from normal girls, what with your cursing, " he mocked. "What has Dumbledore told you about me?" he asked, Hermione could see he was trying to act casual.

"That you are a bottom of the class Slytherin who has no friends," Hermione said simply, a small smile forming on her mouth. She glanced up at Tom, and could see the muscle in his cheek twitching. "Either that or he said 'Tom Riddle is the Slytherin Prefect, top of every class, very intelligent. Will probably be Head Boy when his time comes.' One of the two, I really forget which."

"Oh really," he replied with a glare. "Is that why you were made a prefect, because Dumbledore convinced Dippet?" Hermione nodded to this.

"Dumbledore thinks that by bribing Cedric and me with gifts, affection and power he can make us overlook what he did to us in the past," Hermione said casually.

"What did he do?" Tom asked, intrigue written across his face.

"I can't tell you that," Hermione said firmly. "One day maybe I will, but not now." He nodded slowly, and then there was another pause.

"Who is this _'Cedric' _anyway," he asked, spitting Cedric's name as if it was dirt. Hermione just raised her eyebrows.

"You know, tall guy…brown hair," she said innocently.

"You know what I mean," he sneered disdainfully. "Who is he to you?"

"He's everything to me," Hermione said simply. "He's my best friend, the only I have left... Not that it's any of your business," she added. Tom seemed satisfied by her answer for now and nodded, Hermione took this moment to glance at which book he was holding in his hands.

"Don't you know enough about Hogwarts yet?" she teased lightly, gesturing to _Hogwarts: A History_, in his hands.

"One can never know enough about Hogwarts," he countered. "I'm just doing some background reading, I have some big plans for this year." Hermione felt her blood run cold.

"What kind of plans?" she asked fervently, though trying to let her panic into her voice.

"You'll see, I'm so close I think I will be in a position to enact them before the end of the summer, easily," he said, an evil glint passing over his features. Hermione gulped and dropped the books she was holding so they fell to the ground with a thud. She ignored them.

There was only one reason he would want to read up on Hogwarts.

"I have to go," she said quickly. "Meeting… with Dumbledore… I'm late."

With that she hurried from the library and sprinted to the Room of Requirement, inside she found Cedric sitting peacefully. He jumped up when he saw Hermione run in, anxiety written all over his face.

"Hermione what's wrong?" he asked quickly.

**Chapter Eight- Unwelcome Realizations**

"Dammit!" she yelled as she paced angrily back and forward, she was disgusted at herself for running away in such a state from Tom Riddle and for not foreseeing this problem sooner.

"Hermione," Cedric said cautiously, laying a hand on both her arms to stop her frantic movement. "Calm down."

"This is not the time to be calm Cedric! We've messed up, we've messed up in such a big way!" she exclaimed balling her hands into fists as her dark eyes prickled with the threat of unwanted tears.

"Hermione, you _have _to calm down," Cedric said forcefully, holding her in place. He had known her long enough to know that when Hermione is panicked, she doesn't think clearly. "Deep breath."

"I am not a child Cedric!" she snapped in irritation, glaring at him angrily. He just stared tranquilly back into her eyes.

"Deep breath," he repeated.

"Cedr-"

"Deep breath!" he interrupted. Hermione gritted her teeth furiously and contemplated her options before she took a deep, exaggerated breath, and instantly felt better. Cedric of course noticed, "See, I'm always right."

"This isn't the time," Hermione said sternly, Cedric shrugged; at least she wasn't so flustered anymore.

"Come on then, tell me what's happened," he suggested gently, rubbing her arms.

"When we stopped Tom going home this summer so he couldn't kill his father and grandparents and steal the ring he would make into a horcrux, we forgot one very important thing. What he would spend his summer doing! I was just in the library and he asked what books I was taking out so I made up this excuse and I saw he was reading _Hogwarts: A History_ and he said he had big plans for next year and I know he means the chamber of secrets and he said he was close, and we know what will happen once he gets inside," she reeled off at twice her usual pace.  
Cedric stayed silent for a moment, his eyes wide with shock.

"Shit," he breathed as the realization hit him. His hand ran through his hair and he bit his lip. "Dumbledore," he said under his breath. "Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Dumbledore." He repeated as he reached for his wand on the table, he hastily threw it out in front of him and a jet of silver light passed at great speed through the wall. Hermione knew in a matter of seconds Dumbledore would be receiving summons from a silvery badger.  
Sure enough Dumbledore entered the room minutes later to two very anxious people pacing about the room.

"What in Merlin's name has happened?" he asked. Hermione repeated to him, what she had just said to Cedric, to which he nodded gravely.

"There is only one option," he said darkly.

"And that is?" Cedric asked.

"We have to go down, don't we?" Hermione asked fearfully. Dumbledore nodded, not looking up from the floor, he couldn't look up at her, he wasn't sure he could bear to see the terror in her eyes at being made to go down to that place _again._

"We have to go down, kill the basilisk and seal the chamber forever," he said.

"Not exactly an easy feat," Cedric sighed kneading his forehead with his knuckles, as if trying to dispel a particularly painful headache.

"We have to do it today," Hermione said softly. "He said he was close. We can't afford to lose any time."

"But none of us are parselmouths," Cedric pointed out, looking from Hermione to Dumbledore.

"You've seen the chamber opened before Hermione, I think it's best you try and open it yourself," Dumbledore said, looking for any sign of distress in her face.

"No," Cedric said firmly. "No she's not going down there again."

"Cedric," she breathed raising her eyebrows in caution.

"No!" he exclaimed loudly, shaking his head. "We can't put you through that again!"

"Cedric we have no other choice, we're here for a reason," she said quietly, she was not about to let mere memories stop her from going on such an important mission.

"Hermione," he pleaded.

"I'm going," she said resolutely.

"Hermi-"

"I'm going," she said in a raised voice before taking a deep breath and steeling herself. "This is not up for debate." Cedric sighed and realized that she was not to be swayed, so he just nodded slightly.

"Where is the Marauder's map?" Dumbledore asked. Hermione walked over to her bag and accioed it out from the bottom. He spread it out on the table and they all poured over it.

"Tom Riddle is still in the library," Hermione said, poking the map with her finger. "Dippet is in his office with Slughorn, they won't come out for hours, on the elf made wine I don't doubt… I think we should go now."

"You can't be serious Hermione, not after last time," Cedric begged.

"I'm incredibly serious. We go now."

"No, no, no, no, no. This is bad," Cedric groaned. "I'm sure me and Dumbledore can go down alone, you don't have to come Hermione. You can keep checking the Marauders map, put up wards… that kind of thing."

"If I may offer you some peace of mind Cedric," Albus offered, anticipating an argument to come of their disagreement. "It is my belief that the basilisk is in some sort of… hibernation state as the chamber has not yet been opened by the Slytherin heir."

"Oh that's great, the bloody great snake is sleeping," he retorted sarcastically.

"Cedric, this isn't like you," Hermione said warningly, giving him a penetrating look.

"I'll give you a few moments…" Dumbledore said. "I shall go and see if Fawkes will accompany us… just in case." With that the sorcerer left the room and Cedric immediately turned back to Hermione, clutching her hands in his.

"You do not have to do this," he beseeched. "You do not have to go down to that place again."

"I do Cedric, I'm the only who's been down there before," she said softly, she could see the affection and worry swimming in his eyes and could not be angry at him for not wanting her to go.

"Exactly, and look what happened then, you shouldn't be subjected to reliving those memories," he whispered.

"We came here for a reason Ced," she said squeezing his hands tightly. "You can't protect me from danger to the extent where you won't let me go anywhere and be of assistance to the cause. I know what I signed up for."

"But I want to stop you from having to go through all this, I want to protect you!" he insisted his grey eyes piercing imploringly into her own.

"Cedric there have been times when I was in terrible danger with no one to protect me and I managed to get out of there alive," Cedric dropped her gaze and looked to the floor, Hermione could feel his magic changing and a wave of his guilt washed across her. "No Cedric!" she warned placing her hands on either side of his face and pulling him back up to her gaze. "It was not your fault."

"I am your partner," he whispered ashamedly biting down on his bottom lip. "I should have been there."

"Is that was this is?" she breathed in realization. "Cedric, you don't feel guilty about all of those things, do you?"

"Of course I do," he confirmed. "How can I not? I should have protected you better. I am your partner."

"Cedric," she whispered pulling him into a tight embrace which he returned. "I know you did your best, the only times I had to get out of peril alone was when you were unconscious the first time and in a different country the second."

He murmured something unintelligible.

"Every other time we got caught together and we managed to get ourselves out of it, together," she said.

"Not before I had to see you be tortured," he whispered, his usually steady voice wavering with emotion. "Those were the worst moments of my entire life." She rubbed his back as comfortingly as she could and buried her face into his shoulder.

"I have had to witness that happen to you as well, I have had to watch all of those horrific things happen and have been completely powerless to help, but I'm not stopping _you._ You know you have to do this for yourself as your duty to our friends and families, so let me a go as well. Don't make me let _them _down. We are partners, where you go. I go... for them."

There was a long pause, of course Hermione wasn't going to let Cedric stop her, but she would have a lot less problems if he complied.

"You and me," he finally whispered, thus accepting Hermione's decision, however much it pained him.

**Chapter Nine- The Beauty of the Beast**

Hermione groaned in frustration again. They had been trying to open the chamber for ages, and it still wasn't budging.

"Keep at it Hermione, we'll get there," Dumbledore said from his perch on the side of one of the sinks. Hermione closed her eyes and took another deep breath; she felt Cedric's large hand on her shoulder and his presence next to her.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he whispered into her ear, his lips grazing the sensitive skin. "But I think for this to work you have to channel the last time. Let it encompass you." Hermione's determined expression turned to one of dread, but she nodded slightly.

"Okay," she said quietly.

"Good luck," she heard Cedric whisper again before she felt the reassuring pressure of his lips on her forehead. "I'm here for you." She nodded again and winced slightly as she felt his warmth withdraw from her. She slowly sunk to the cold stone floor, wrapped her arms around her knees and allowed the memories of that night to flood into her mind.

"_She's down there," Hermione whimpered as they walked into the desolate bathroom._

_"I'm so sorry," Harry croaked, his tears tracing slick marks down his bloodied face. "This is my fault."_

_"No mate, this is his fault," Ron said, with a large sniff. "He did it before, and he's doing again. He knew it would get to us." Hermione reached out to both her friends and squeezed their hands. They stood there for a minute, the enormity of their task not dampening their spirit. There was no spirit left inside them, there was only need. The need to get her back._  
_It was the first time Hermione ever saw Ron cry, properly._  
_Not tears from laughing so hard his stomach hurt, choking on pumpkin juice or being kicked in the shin. They were just tears of desperation and sadness, to Hermione this show of emotion in her old friend was devastatingly beautiful and it broke her heart. He let out a sob and she grabbed his shoulder, pulling him into a hug, but he was a wreck, no amount of comforting could change what had happened._

_"My sister," he howled. "My only sister, my baby sister."_

_"My best friend," Hermione whispered._

_"My… my Ginny," Harry whispered tearfully. Hermione squeezed his hand a little tighter, she knew how he loved her, and her him. She had been there at their engagement party, laughing and dancing, been at their wedding, joyful tears mingling with laughter as she watched Ginny, the most beautiful woman in the world that night, dancing with the man who could never have torn his gaze away from his bride. Now the maid of honour, the brother and the husband were in a Hogwarts bathroom, brought here by the threat of her death, each dreading what they would find. Neither Harry nor Ron cared whether it was a trap; all they needed was to try. Hermione felt overwhelmed by the misery that radiated from them._

_"Let's go," Ron said hoarsely, with a nod Harry stepped up to one of the battered sinks and focussed in on the tiny snake on the tap. Hermione gasped as that unnatural hissing noise fell from Harry's lips and sure enough the grating sound of the sinks lowering revealed the slimy tunnel which descended in darkness._

Hermione was brought out of her trance-like state by being gently shaken.

"You did it Granger," Cedric said soothingly as he pulled her to her feet and brushed away the tears from her cheeks. Hermione nodded numbly and tried dispel the images once again, on looking over to the column of sinks she realized that as Harry had opened the chamber, so had she in imitation.

After the heart-stopping slide down to the chamber Hermione and Cedric landed in a painful heap on the floor, Dumbledore however seemed to descend with a lot more elegance. Hermione flinched slightly as she brought her hand up to her chin, she could feel where the skin had been scraped off in the fall. In the darkness she heard Cedric groan in discomfort as he staggered to his feet.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"It's just a scratch," he said in reply. "Come on; let's get this over and done with. This place is repulsive." Hermione lifted her wand in front of her and the cavernous antechamber was illuminated for the first time in a thousand years. The architecture was thrown into relief and the contrast of the shadows made the three of them wary, in case they caught a glimpse of movement from within the darkness.

Without speaking they carried on their journey, their steps echoing throughout the damp chamber and their shoes occasionally crunching on bones underfoot. After a few minutes of walking, which seemed like hours to Hermione especially, she spoke up.

"When I was last here, there was a shed skin round this next bend," she whispered, but still her voice rang around them. The others nodded and Hermione saw Cedric swallowing the lump in his throat. She had tried to keep her voice from wavering, she didn't need him knowing how fast her heart was beating or how her palms were sweating. It would only convince him he was right about her staying behind. As they reached the turning in the chamber each of them crept as quietly as possible before turning their heads round the corner to see what was awaiting them.

It was not a skin.

A colossal coil of serpentine flesh was rising and falling gently.

"It's sleeping?" Cedric asked bewildered.

"Oh what an anti-climax, I was looking forward to battling a fifty foot conscious snake," Hermione spat sarcastically.

"Hermione, your humour is not appreciated at this moment in time," Cedric told her. "And do you always have to be so sarcastic when you are under pressure?" Hermione decided she was not going to dignify that with an answer, so took the step round the corner and walked as quietly as possible up to the beast.

"This is going to need all of our magic," Dumbledore said sombrely.

"I've never killed something that's unconscious before," Cedric murmured.

"It is strangely beautiful… it looks almost innocent in this unaggressive and unguarded state," Dumbledore said wisely.

"It's like killing a sleeping house-elf," Hermione said sadly.

"How?" Came the bewildered voices of Cedric and Dumbledore.

"Well if you think about it… this snake doesn't kill on it's own. It's ordered to. It doesn't do it out of spite or malice, it does it because it has a bond with the person controlling it, it couldn't stop even if it wanted to," she explained.

"I see where you're coming from," Cedric said slowly, although Hermione guessed it was only to appease her. "But we have to slay this basilisk." Hermione looked at Dumbledore; the usual twinkle had left his eyes.

"On three?" she suggested her companions both nodded. "One."

"Two," Dumbledore announced.

"Three," Cedric said in a firm voice.

Though when the time came none of them could bear to say the curse in more than a whisper.

"Avada Kedavra." There was an almighty flash of green light emitted from all three wands and the massive serpent woke in alarm, though it was dead before his eyes had opened. The curse caused the heavy snake to lurch and the force of it landing back on the stone floor sent shockwaves through the chamber. The three were sent flying backward into the hard, damp wall which began crumbling around them. Hermione could feel hot, sticky blood dripping from her forehead and into her eyes but she did not care when the tunnel was caving in around them.

"Albus! Go!" she screamed as she grabbed Cedric's hand and pulled him up, he was groggy but not unconscious. "Albus! You can apparate, Cedric and I can run. Just go." Before he could respond a large part of the stone ceiling fell with a deafening bang to the floor between them. Hermione did not have time panic at the sense of déjà vu she was feeling, tugging on Cedric to run she pulled him as far as possible from the newly formed rock wall. With a quick scan of the situation she realized she and Cedric were on the side with the exit. But Albus was the deputy head, he and the headmaster could apparate within the castle... if he wasn't already crushed. She daren't think of that now, the cracks were spreading. "Come on Cedric!" She screamed through the dust and falling smaller rocks. She could see he was drifting in and out of consciousness there was no way he would be able to run all the way back before the tunnel collapsed. She swore loudly and dropped him onto the floor.

"I'm sorry, Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus! Portandum!" She yelled in quick succession, with her wand pointed directly at Cedric's face. She focused all her energy on the girl's bathroom as Cedric vanished from sight. Those were very dangerous combination of spells to use; they had not dared risk it when kidnapping Dumbledore from the Leaky Cauldron. Stunning, body-binding and transporting something alive was not something which is recommended. But Hermione was willing to take that risk, because otherwise there was very real possibility they would both be buried alive in the Chamber of Secrets.  
It suddenly dawned upon Hermione that she was alone, down here in the chamber where some of the worst moments of her life had happened. She could not dwell on that fear, as she sprinted away from the epicentre of the damage a large hunk of rock fell, bashing her arm as it went. She cried out in pain and grabbed her arm, but she could not stop, she could feel, smaller, sharper rocks slicing her skin.  
She did not stop running until she finally reached the entrance to the chamber, she didn't halt to catch her breath then either. Not when she was down here and Cedric and Dumbledore could be in a very bad way.

"What do I do," she muttered as she saw the sheer walls of the wide chute. "This is going to be painful," she groaned. Gritting her teeth she positioned herself beneath the chute and pointed her wand in the opposite direction. "Ascendio." With the force of her spell she was sent up the tunnel. "Ascendio!" she shouted again when she seemed to be slowing. It was all very well until she came to a twist in the tunnel; she could not help but let herself be thrown into the side as the spell was not controllable in more ways than simple direction. Finally she came tumbling out onto the stone floor of the girls' lavatory.

"Hermione!" Came the worried voice of Dumbledore.

"Thank goodness you got out okay," she managed to say, despite the pain she felt as she clutched her abdomen. "Cedric?"

"I transported him to the hospital wing with Fawkes, we must go there at once, Madame Finchley is on holiday in the south." Hermione nodded and tried to stand.

"I think I've got broken ribs Albus," Hermione said as she leaned heavily on the sink.

"Can you make it to the Hospital Wing?" he asked her. She nodded and tried to take a step, after whimpering in pain shook her head.

"Move your hand," he told her as he bent down and pressed gently on the bones. Hermione cried out in agony. "Stay very still… Brackium Emendo." Hermione instantly felt the pain subside.

"Thank you, worked better with you than old Gilderoy," she joked despite the situation. Dumbledore gave her a small smile and warned her to go easy on it.

"You stay hwew and put the first wards on Albus," Hermione said. "I'll go deal with Cedric." He nodded in reply and she ran as fast as her broken body could carry her. When she got in she saw Cedric lying stiff and unconscious on one of the beds. She lifted the body-bind curse from him and checked for breaks in all his limbs. Only his arm was fractured which she mended and bandaged up for him, blasting open the door of the office as she went to take what she needed from the potion supplies.

"Episkey," she repeated many times over his skin before she gave him a blood replenishing potion and one to make him sleep off his concussion.  
Dumbledore entered the room just as she was finishing her ministrations.

"I think he'll be okay," she said softly. "He's sleeping."

"You did the right thing; it was a risk but he could never have made it back on foot in his condition. How are you feeling?" he voice was full of fatherly concern.

"I'm fine," she said. "Would you mind just sealing these cuts for me? I hate doing it to myself."  
Dumbledore nodded and used his wand to silently heal all her visible cuts. "Thanks," she said after he was finished. "I'm going to go outside… I need some fresh air. Still feeling a little claustrophobic."

"I shall stay here with Cedric," Dumbledore said. "Do take some bruise salve; you're already turning funny colours."

**Chapter Ten- Avoidance Leads To Obsession**

Hermione Wembdon was strange. No… interesting.

Tom stood contemplating this bizarre girl as he skimmed stones across the lake. He found himself intrigued by this witch, she had power over Dumbledore, and power over the 'greatest wizard of all time' was something Tom couldn't help but admire. Why had she helped him to stay in the castle over summer? To prove she could probably… to flaunt her influence on the old codger, to show everyone she wasn't to be trifled with because she had Dumbledore on her side.  
How devious.  
But as a Gryffindor, she can't be that devious, his own house is where those with cunning belong. Maybe Dumbledore bribed the sorting hat to put her in his own house, to keep an eye on her, to keep her away from the temptations Slytherin offered. A real possibility.

But then she had acted strangely today, going to all the trouble of hunting for those books and then just dropping them and scurrying out. She seemed to be so passionate about her reasoning to get them.  
Maybe Tom misjudged her character… maybe she was just a weird Gryffindor. He smirked at this thought. He was very good judge of character.

With a sigh he threw his last stone and picked up his book bag, deciding on going back to the common room to finish his book. As he turned back toward the castle he noticed a figure walking slowly from the entrance hall. Tom watched the figure for a few moments before he realized it was in fact the very person he had just been musing over. With a shrug he walked off toward the Quidditch pitch, with her on that route to the forest and a little luck, their paths would cross. Sure enough they did, but as soon as Tom got close enough to her to properly see her, he noticed something was terribly wrong. Half of her face had lost it's usual warm and glowing complexion and was discoloured and waxy, as though a bruise was forming. Even more strange was her eyes, when they had spoken last week at the prefect meeting Hermione's dark eyes were glistening with intelligence and vitality, but now they were dull and downcast, and she hadn't notice him at all.

"Err… Wembdon?" he said. He watched as the girl jumped out of her stupor and swore violently. Tom supressed a smirk… just what he was expecting. "Ever the ladylike articulation I see."  
Hermione just looked at him, which the same unfeeling eyes, it was making him uncomfortable. He wasn't used to feeling uncomfortable like this. "I got you these," he said quickly, breaking eye contact to remove some books from his bag, the very ones she had been meaning to borrow from the library. "You said you needed them…"

Hermione looked at him in shock for a moment.  
"Oh, yes of course, that had completely slipped my mind, thank you," she said finally taking the books from him and pinning them to her chest whilst eying him in confusion. He noticed her white blouse which had been so crisp and spotless earlier was now filthy.

"What's that on your…" he said pointing to her sleeve.

"Oh Merlin, it's just a bit of blood how silly of me," she said under breath as she pulled out her wand and cleaned it without a word of incantation.

"Are you alright?" Tom asked, showing an above average interest in another human being… for him anyway.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Hermione asked breezily.

"Because you almost ran from the library earlier and now you're out here on your own covered in blood," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

"Well apart from _that_," she said sarcastically, but without any of her usual fire. Tom noticed her play with the silver chain around her neck, but he couldn't see what was at the bottom, her blouse was in the way. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. She whispered hoarsely; "Cedric was trying to make me feel better, acting like a prat to do it of course. Long story short he fell down the stairs, I tried to grab him and ended up landing on top of him at the bottom. He's not well, unconscious in the hospital wing."

"Oh," Tom said softly. "Are you okay?" He didn't give a damn about Cedric.

"Yes," she replied. "I landed on top of him, there's just a little bruising, I didn't hit my head or anything like he did."

"Oh," he said in response, looking at the ground. "Did he succeed in cheering you up… is your kind of humour that of people hurting themselves?"

"No," she replied shortly, a bitter smirk creeping onto her face. "I've seen enough pain to not view it as humorous." They stood in silence for a second, Hermione seemed lost in her own thoughts as she looked towards the mountains, a nostalgic look in her eyes, Tom just studied her face.

"So are you okay…I mean in the sense that you needed cheering up?" he asked.

"No," she whispered. "But it's okay, not to be okay sometimes." There was another pause and Tom could see Hermione's lip quivering dangerously, and her eyes threatening to spill tears, but they didn't. It seemed as though she refused to cry.

"Would you tell me if I asked what's made you upset?"

"No," she said firmly. "I should go, Cedric might wake up… I just needed some air."

"Does Dumbledore know what happened? Did he check you were okay?" Tom asked.

"Yes, he's with Cedric now," she replied stiffly.

"Just one more thing," he said arching an elegant eyebrow. "If you fell down the stairs, why is there mud skid on the back of your blouse?" Hermione's face did not change, it will still a mask of indifference.

"Good bye Riddle," she said curtly as she turned on her heel, walking quickly back to the castle. Tom eyed her retreating back doubtfully, his eyes narrowed in thought.

There was a week left of the summer holidays and Tom was sat in the library rolling his quill angrily between his fingers. He didn't know why he was so annoyed, but he hadn't seen Hermione since they had met outside and she was hurt. Well he had technically seen her, they'd passed in the corridor when she was linking arms with stupid Cedric, he'd seen her in the library twice, both whilst accompanied with Dumbledore and engaged in a hushed conversation.

He could just imagine how she had spent her summer up in Gryffindor tower with that imbecile, only leaving because that old codger wanted to talk to his precious god daughter. She didn't even like Dumbledore, she'd said so, but whenever Tom saw them together he noticed how sincere her smile and flattery was. Good actress.

The thing he didn't understand was why he was so bothered every time he saw her with Cedric, he reasoned that it was because he was blatantly an arsehole. Waltzing into Hogwarts and using his influence with Dumbledore to become Head Boy after one night in the castle, and he had pushed Hermione down the stairs… kind of. If Cedric had been in his own year and stopped him from becoming Head Boy, the position he had coveted and strived to gain for six years, Tom was sure he would have hexed him into the ground by now. Although there was still time… it would probably be best to ascertain his ineptitude for duelling first, a fortnight of lessons would be more than enough. As the thought of battling against the Gryffindor boy entered his mind his quill snapped. Gritting his teeth in irritation he removed the splintered shards from his palm and crushed the remains of it under his fist. Swinging his bag over his shoulder he decided to go and get some food from the kitchen and go back to the common room. He was still seething with this unfamiliar rage when he caught a snippet of conversation, walking along the seventh floor corridor. Frowning, he quickly cast a disillusionment charm on himself and backtracked slightly to where had heard the conversation, round the corner.

"Calm down Granger," he heard Cedric hiss.

"I am calm," he heard Hermione retort. Why was he calling her Granger?

"You know Dumbledore is only doing this for your own good," he said, trying to placate her. Tom leaned around the corner in interest; there in the corridor were the two new students seemingly in an argument. Hermione's hands were on her hips and she had fixed her friend with a stern gaze. Tom watched in disgust as Cedric laid a hand on her shoulder.

"My own good?" she repeated, enraged.

"You know exactly what kind of place Knockturn Alley is, you shouldn't be going there, especially not alone," Cedric said.

"Oh so suddenly I can't handle it," she scoffed. Tom couldn't help but agree on that point; she shouldn't be going down Knockturn Alley.

"Hermione," Cedric pleaded. "Please don't be angry at Dumbledore for this, he really thinks it's for your benefit." Tom couldn't help but smirk as she saw Hermione shrug off his hand.

"Are you trying to tell me Cedric," she hissed. "That suddenly I am not capable of going to Knockturn Alley by myself, that suddenly any seedy people there would have any effect on me. Have I not met the scum of the earth and got through it? Is that what has become of me? From the front line of a war to not allowed to go to London." Tom's eyebrows shot up as he heard this, what kind of girl was this? He must have taken a loud intake of breath as Hermione's and Cedric's heads both snapped toward the spot he was standing. Hermione seemed to disregard it instantly but Cedric kept his eyes on the point a little longer.

"Hermione, please you know I don't mean that," he said earnestly. Tom hoped Hermione would hit him. Unfortunately she just nodded dejectedly.

"I'm sorry Ced, I shouldn't take this out on you, it's just frustrating, I had so much independence before all this," she said so softly Tom hardly heard it.

"It's going to be okay Granger," he whispered back to her, wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. Tom's stomach tightened as he saw her lean into him and bury her head into his chest. "Come on, let's go back to the common room," he suggested, running his hand through her hair. Tom felt very uncomfortable at this show of intimacy, but it was quickly masked with annoyance as he saw Cedric take Hermione's hand and lead her down the corridor toward him. He daren't move, or they would hear his footsteps. He held his breath as they walked past but Hermione stopped abruptly inches from him, a confused and searching look on her face.

"What is it?" Cedric asked.

"Nothing," she replied, Tom almost had a heart attack as she looked him directly in the eye before carrying on walking. He had never experienced something like it, he was invisible… how had she made eye contact with him? The conversation he had overheard raised a large array of questions…

Before, Tom had thought Hermione Wembdon was interesting purely because she was unknown and mysterious, a novelty. Now he was resolute and determined on knowing every last one of her secrets, of which it seemed she had a fair few.


	2. Chapters 11 to 20

**Chapter Eleven- Sweetness or Sneers**

"Morning Sleepyhead!"  
Hermione shrieked and flipped over as she heard the yell and felt someone jump on the bottom of her bed.

"Cedric, how did you get in here?" she asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

"The window," he replied gleefully.

"You are ridiculous," she said surveying the boy at the end of her bed. Cedric was sat cross legged and grinning, still wearing a grey t shirt and blue chequered pyjama bottoms. "I don't remember issuing an invitation to a pyjama party… have you even brushed your hair yet?"

"Oh lighten up a bit," he said, still grinning but running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "You work too hard; you're having the day off."

"I've had all summer off," she pointed out as she stretched the sleep from her muscles.

"No, you've filled it with essays and research, today we're going to have an actual day off," he told her. "Come on, I've worked hard on this, humour me." Hermione gave him a stern look, but couldn't help but smile as she saw the innocent look on his face.

"Fine," she conceded as she whacked him round the head with her pillow.

"Hey! You're assaulting a poor unarmed schoolboy, you monster!" he cried out as he feigned passing out on the mattress.

"You're twenty one years old Cedric, man up a bit," she teased, hitting him again with the pillow.

"Oh you're going to pay for that one," he laughed picking up the end of the duvet and capturing her under it. He pinned her down under his elbows and laughed as she tried to wiggle free. "What's that Granger? At nineteen year old like you can't fight off a guy with a duvet?" Hermione finally managed to poke her head out from underneath the blanket.

"You must be mistaken Cedric, I was born on the nineteenth of September 1926," she said in scandalized tone.

"In that case you must also be quite mistaken, for I am only in the year above you, I was born in 1925," he said with a grin.

"I hate to say it but we are in the forties, what would it look like to some unsuspecting individual walking in on you pinning a poor, innocent sixth year to her bed?" she asked cheekily. Cedric chuckled in response.

"You're absolutely right Miss Wembdon, how completely inappropriate of me. I can only apologize to your good self, please allow me to make amends by treating you to breakfast," he said happily.

"I suppose I can allow you that privilege Mr Amos, I would hate for you to lose sleep because you feel you have not made amends for your abominable actions," she laughed.

"Well that's good to hear because I hid it before I woke you up," Cedric explained as he rolled off of her and onto the floor. "Ow," he mumbled as he made impact. Pointing his wand at Hermione's bedside table two plates of breakfast appeared, he picked himself up and sat on the end of the bed once again.  
"Ta da! I got you waffles, because I know they're your favourite, there is that blueberry stuff on them as well. I thought you could use the treat."

"Thank you Cedric," Hermione said, hugging him tightly. "That was very thoughtful of you and you know my favourite breakfast food!"

"What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't," he said with a grin. "I may think it's gross and I'll stick to my eggs and bacon, but I know you like it."  
Hermione had to look away as a genuine smile lit up her face.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"I don't think I've ever eaten so many waffles," Hermione groaned.

"I think I'm going to eggsplode," Cedric joked, nudging her side with his elbow. "Cause I was eating eggs and bacon. Get it."

"I got it Cedric, it just wasn't funny," she teased.

"If I wasn't so full I would teach you a lesson about being mean to me, but I just want a nap," he said with a yawn. "It's half past ten, that's a good napping time right."

"Not in my bed! You're stealing all the bloody covers," Hermione moaned, pulling on the blanket.

"I'm bigger than you are, I need more covers," Cedric whined in a very accurate grumpy-toddler impression, pulling on the other side of the duvet. Hermione dissolved into laughter at this and allowed Cedric to pull her into his side, so there was enough to cover them both.

"You have to show Albus that imitation," Hermione managed to say as she calmed down, and rested her head on Cedric's shoulder.

"Interesting idea… I'd rather not," Cedric said.

"Oh poor Albus, he needs comedic relief too you know, go on…" Hermione tried to persuade.

"I really think he can live without it," Cedric laughed.

"Fine but the minute dear Albus gets a bit weepy, you're in there with the stand-up comedy," Hermione joked.

"I think we've got bigger problems on our hands when Dumbledore starts sobbing," Cedric reasoned. "And besides, he's a great wizard I can't show him that."

"Too shy?"

"Yes, I am… I'm way too self-conscious to pretend to be babies in front of people," he said.

"So what am I?" Hermione asked indignantly.

"You're a banshee so it doesn't count," he laughed as he tickled her ribs, sending her into another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

"You're not funny," she managed to choke out.

"Oh but I am," Cedric insisted, his grin not leaving his face.

"Before we have our day off, would you mind if I did something, I will only take ten minutes," Hermione implored.

"Only if it doesn't involve a book," he reasoned.

"It doesn't, I just want to go to the owlery, the letter's already written but I want it to get to Septimus and Venres before they leave."

"Okay, you go and do that I'll meet you in the common room in half an hour," he said.

"Thanks Ced, I'll hurry," she said, hugging before she jumped up from bed. With a flick of her wand her pyjamas turned into a forties style dress and she grabbed the envelope on her bedside table. "See you later," she called as she ran down the stairs.

Things were not going to plan up in the owlery.

"Come on," she cooed to one of the school's owls, they all seemed to be perched high in the rafters. "Please."

"Having trouble?" Hermione swore loudly and spun around to the freshly opened door. "You really do have a way with language Miss Wembdon." Hermione clutched her chest as Tom Riddle walked into the room, a smirk plastered to his face.

"Do you always have to sneak up on me?" she asked.

"It's starting to seem that way," he replied, raising his hand into the air, instantly an owl soared down from the timbers.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked, irritated that he was having more luck than she was.

"Owl treat," he said, handing the owl to Hermione.

"Thanks," she said grouchily.

"You didn't strike me as one to use the school owls," Tom said casually as another owl soared into his awaiting hand.

"I don't have an owl and I have to send a letter, one would come to the conclusion that I would need to use a school owl," Hermione replied.

"What you couldn't get Dumbledore to buy you one," he scoffed. Hermione gritted her teeth.

"I don't want one, I don't have many people I want to send letters to," she said curtly.

"Really, it looks like you do, that's two letters there," he pointed out.

"Only Septimus and Venres, that's why I only need one owl," she replied.

"The Weasley twins? Surely you have some better acquaintance than those Neanderthals?" he jeered.

"I happen to like spending time with them, they're funny," Hermione said shortly. "Besides, you're sending a letter to…ah, Flourish and Blotts. I really don't think you can lecture me about the recipients of my correspondence."

"I have to purchase textbooks," he pointed out.

"Then I'll let you get on with that, Cedric is waiting for me," she said as she hastily tied the envelope to the owl's leg.

"One day you will get tired of having such imbeciles as friends Miss Wembdon," he drawled.

"And one day you will get tired of being alone, bitter and thoroughly unpleasant," Hermione spat angrily. "Good day to you Riddle," With that she stormed out of the Owlery and didn't look back.

**Chapter Twelve- Potion Envy**

The hall was lit up with magical candles, the scent of freshly made food and anticipation hung in the air. The hall was already full of students all clad in their uniforms, embellished with their house colours and talking animatedly.

"Oi Hermione!" came the yell of some of the Gryffindor boys as they saw the curly haired witch enter the hall. Her eyes scanned the room to find who was calling and as her eyes locked onto them she beamed and waved, but carried on walking toward the staff table. Half the hall watched as she flitted up to the staff table to whisper to Professors Slughorn and Flitwick who sat side by side. Slughorn chuckled in merriment, but Flitwick looked very concerned and dashed out of the hall. Slughorn patted her on the arm and she smiled graciously at him before nodding to whatever he had said and turned back to the Gryffindor table. Both the Weasleys, their friend Robert and Theo the prefect jumped up to greet her, each kissing her on the cheek and shifting to create a space for her at the table.

"One of the boats capsized," she explained to them as they leaned in, trying to supress a giggle. "Four first years in the lake… they're fine of course! Just a little damp." Just then she saw Cedric stroll into the Great Hall, and a large group of Gryffindor girls at the end of the table squealled and called him over. He locked eyes with Hermione and gave her a shrug, she laughed and winked at him, gesturing with her head for him to go and sit with his new admirers. He blushed a little, but smiled none the less and went to join the gaggle of girls.

"So Hermione how did the first years fall into the lake? Did they get eaten by the giant squid?" Robert asked, sparking off the conversation. None of the Gryffindors noticed the piercing glare they were receiving from a certain person at the Slytherin table.

Soon enough Professor Dippet stood from his chair and hush fell over the students, Hermione noticed it took him a little longer to achieve quiet than it did when Dumbledore had done the same. The sorting kicked off just as it had done when Hermione was one of those little first years, all trailing in after Professor Dumbledore and looking exceedingly nervous.  
Hermione was sat in a group consisting of sixth and seventh year boys and every time a new Gryffindor was announced they stood up, cheering and clapping as they went. Of course the Weasley twins pulled her up and made her join in, not that Hermione really minded… she had never had this much fun at a sorting ceremony, and it showed on her face. Finally all of the first years were sorted and they were allowed to feast.

"So do you know your way around the castle yet Mione," Venres asked as he passed her the roast potatoes.

"Thank you, and yes I do, I can't say I know it like the back of my hand but I definitely know the way to all of my classes," she said.

"Which ones did you pick?" Robert asked between mouthfuls from a gigantic turkey leg.

"Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic and Arithmancy," she listed as she poured gravy over her roast beef.

"Oh, only a few then," Septimus sarcastically commented, Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"I wonder if even snake boy is doing that many?" Venres wondered out loud.

"Who on earth is snake boy?" Hermione asked, passing the gravy jug to her right.

"His highness Tom Riddle, of course, he took all of those subjects for OWLs, but he might have dropped some," Venres explained with a grin.

"His highness?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raised.

"Oh but of course Mione," Septimus chimed in. "The Slytherin prince, have you not noticed how grumpy he is today? Look at him, over there seething with jealousy."

"What about?" she asked.

"I'm guessing it's because of all the attention good old Cedders is getting over there, have you not noticed how every girl in the room, bar you of course, keeps staring at him? That's usually what Riddle gets, he isn't used to having close competition," Robert explained.

"I don't know what you are talking about!" Venres cried. "Are you trying to tell me that I am not devilishly handsome and debonair? Am I not the very epitome of sophistication and suave? You wound me Robert, you truly do." Hermione laughed at his flamboyant display which caused him to look toward her. "Dearest Miss Wembdon, I beg you, save my wounded pride. You think me handsome enough don't you?"

"Of course I do Venres my darling, no one can match your grace, charm and elegance," she laughed, clutching her stomach.

"Oi, did you guys all hear that," Venres shouted to all his fellow Gryffindors down the table. "Hermione Wembdon thinks I'm hot," he gave them a big thumbs up and a cheesy grin. Hermione still laughed into her food, trying not to cry and clutching her stomach. Venres turned back to his closer companions with a straight face and said in a low voice. "I am totally in." Before nudging Hermione playfully and popping a boiled potato into his mouth.

After Hermione had a small portion of treacle tart, and the boys around her had three large ones Dippet called the feast to a close and dismissed the students.

"Scuse us, coming through, very important person coming through," Septimus shouted as him and Venres came barging through the crowded Entrance Hall, with a squirming Hermione on their shoulders.

"Let me down!" she squealed through her laughter, but they just ignored her.

"Gorgeous new prefect gets right of way here, part please," Venres yelled. "Her highness had places to be."

"Weasleys," came a growl from below Hermione.

"Good evening Mr Riddle, can we help you," Septimus and Venres said in synchronization, and forced politeness.

"As a prefect, I am telling you to put Miss Wembdon down," he said icily.

"Ah but you forget Mr Riddle," Septimus explained. "That the lovely Miss Wembdon here is also a prefect and one of our own house, thus we shall follow her orders over yours and it is on her orders that she is up there."

"That is a lie," Hermione said kicking him.

"Fine, fine, we'll put her down," Venres groaned, lowering Hermione to the floor. "Is there anything else you desired Riddle? Or did you just want to ruin our fun?" Hermione could clearly see Tom's irritation by the set of his jaw.

"Professor Slughorn asked me to issue this to Miss Wembdon, I trust one of you can also give this to Mr Amos for me, I have no wish to go and seek him out," he said, handing two envelopes to Hermione.

"Of course I can, thank you Mr Riddle," Hermione said curtly.

"My pleasure Miss Wembdon," he said, glaring at the two boys who were stood beside her.

"Come on Mione," Venres said throwing his arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the grand staircase. "There's much more pleasurable company in the common room."

The next morning Hermione was waiting outside the potions dungeon, just her luck that she had it first thing on a Monday morning, meaning she would have to answer Slughorn's invitation to the Slug Club which Tom had given her yesterday. She was exhausted after staying up late with the boys in the common room and having been subjected to the gossip of the girls in her dorm. They were all intrigued with handsome Cedric and wanted to know everything about him. She cringed as she remembered when one of the girls, Olivia had found a jumper of his under her bed and Hermione had been forced to make up a lie about why she had it. Unfortunately it didn't work well, she didn't tell them the truth that was he had gotten to hot when in their dorm and took it off, instead she told them that she was cold and he had let her borrow it. This led to them discussing very noisily for twenty minutes about how gentleman–like Cedric was, but about the possibility of him being in love with Hermione. To top it all off, neither of the Weasleys were in this class with her, both having dropped potions which meant she was alone.

"Good morning Miss Wembdon," said two boys who had just sauntered along the corridor toward her.

"Good morning, please forgive me I do not know your names," she said to the boys. Both had dark hair, blue eyes and aristocratic, handsome features.

"Orion Black at your service ma'am," the first said politely, bowing and extending his hand to her.

"It's a pleasure Mr Black," she said graciously as he kissed her hand lightly.

"And this is my cousin," he said gesturing to the second.

"Cygnus Black," he said also placing a kiss on her extended hand. "You'll no doubt meet my brother Alphard, he is in the year above."

"I am very glad to meet you both," Hermione said with a smile.

"It looks like you're the only Gryffindor in this class Miss Wembdon," Orion pointed out with a wicked smirk. "It seems none of the other lions were intelligent enough to get into advanced potions."

"Then that will be awfully embarrassing if there are many Hufflepuffs in here," Hermione sneered. Orion and Cygnus shared a look of approval.

"You know Miss Wembdon, for a Gryffindor you aren't half bad," Cygnus said.

"Anyone who can ruthlessly insult Hufflepuffs on their first day has got to have some good about them," Orion said.

"I think I'll take that as a compliment," she replied with a smirk. The pair didn't have time to reply as the door was opened and Slughorn announced for them to enter. Hermione noticed that despite the fact he was a little less round and bald, he was really the same as when she had last seen him.

"Ah Miss Wembdon!" He said loudly. "I have been looking forward to assessing your potion making abilities, Dumbledore's god daughter after all. Sit right at the front here." Hermione nodded and took her seat at the front of the class. The door opened once again and someone walked in who Slughorn was obviously gleeful about, Hermione noticed as she was digging out her book from her bag.

"Tom m'boy!" Slughorn exclaimed, Hermione groaned internally, the last time they had spoken she had insulted him and stormed off. "Right at the front Mr Riddle, can't have my star potioneer hiding at the back, you can show Miss Wembdon here the ropes."

"I would be my pleasure Sir," Tom said in an overly polite tone. "I trust you had a pleasant summer?" Hermione almost gagged. This was not turning out well. Even worse than the fact she had to sit next to Tom Riddle was the absence of any other Gryffindors, and to her slight relief Hufflepuffs. There was six Slytherins, four Ravenclaws and herself. Amongst those were Riddle, the two Blacks, Abraxas Malfoy, Carlton Rosier and Vulcan Mulciber. 'Nothing to be worried about,' Hermione thought sarcastically. Tom Riddle came and sat at the same workbench as Hermione.

"Miss Wembdon," he said casually.

"Mr Riddle," she replied with equal indifference. Luckily there was no need for the conversation to be extended as Slughorn had called quiet over his class.

"Now as it's the first day back I shall not bore you all with a theoretical lesson, I am instead going to evaluate all your potion making abilities. I would like you to work individually and produce an Ailhotsy Draught, which produces hysteria in those who consume it, or even smell it's fumes so be careful. You have one hour, page two hundred and one. You may begin." He ceremoniously turned the hourglass on his desk and hurried them all off. Hermione was pleased to say the least; she had made this potion flawlessly in potions class before. As she lit the fire under her cauldron Cygnus and Orion led the other three Slytherin boys over to be introduced to Hermione, she was as courteous as possible but their introductions were cut short by Riddle.

"If I may suggest something Miss Wembdon," he snapped, whilst cutting up his own ingredients. "Brewing your potion would be a more productive use of your time rather than socializing."

"Thank you for your consideration toward my potioneering, but I'm sure I won't lose any marks by being polite to my lovely new classmates," she replied, smiling at the circle of boys which surrounded her.

"On your head be it," he spat, Hermione just smiled in return.

"Allow me to fetch your ingredients for you Miss Wembdon," Rosier said with a bow.

"Oh no you don't," Orion interrupted, "you're not swooping in on this one." Hermione couldn't help but giggle as the Slytherin boys fought over who was to get Hermione's ingredients in the supply cupboard. In the end they all gave her one of them, much to Tom's disapproval who stood glaring over his cauldron which was already bubbling.

"Thank you ever so much," Hermione said as she batted her eyelashes at the other boys. "I would hate to drag you away from your potions a minute longer."

By the end of lesson only three people had finished their draughts, none of which were the Slytherins who had been doting on Hermione at the beginning of the lesson. Hermione and Tom were displaying the textbook marine blue potions, whilst one of the Ravenclaw boys' was a much lighter blue, which he was only awarded ten points for. When Slughorn came over to Tom and Hermione's desk he puffed out his chest and beamed at them.

"I see you have not lost your talent over the summer Mr Riddle, twenty points for Slytherin," he said cheerily. "As for you Miss Wembdon I am thoroughly impressed and I thought Dumbledore was exaggerating when he spoke of your educational proficiency! I have never seen such an exemplar first potion in all my years of teaching. Did you get my note about the Slug Club?"

"I did indeed Professor, thank you so much," she said, plastering on her best fake smile. "Cedric was saying to me just this morning how much of a privilege it was to be invited."

"Oh Miss Wembdon, you bestow on me too much praise, but Mr Amos you say? I can hardly believe that such a pleasant young man would say such kind words about my little club. When we spoke over the summer I shall admit I found him quite the gentleman." Hermione smiled broadly in response. "Very good Miss Wembdon, thirty points."

Hermione noticed Tom's scowl as Slughorn continued on his way to inspect the other cauldrons. He was obviously fuming that she had finished the potion despite wasting time and that Slughorn had awarded her more points than him.

His mood did not improve as he watched Hermione walk arm in arm to Charms with Rosier, who asked whether he might accompany her there.

**Chapter Thirteen- Dating Conventions**

"Getting in with Rosier are you?" Venres teased as he beckoned Hermione to take the seat next to him in Charms. She rolled her eyes as she took it and set her bag down by her feet.

"As it happens the Slytherins in Potions were very nice to me, they fetched my ingredients and everything," she said.

"If only I were an attractive female," he replied, stroking an imaginary beard. "I would have all the horrible Slytherins wrapped round my little finger… next stop world domination." Hermione swatted him with the back of her hand and they focussed their eyes to the front of the class, where Flitwick was stood on a pile of books capturing the attention of his students. Despite it being their first day back they had been set the task of turning vinegar into wine. By the end of the lesson everyone was exceedingly frustrated as they had been given an essay as homework and no one had been able to master the charm except Hermione and Tom, who of course had both done it with ease.

"How did you manage to do that?" Venres asked her as they were leaving. Hermione just shrugged in response. "Oh well, I'll know who I'll be coming to for help with homework."

"Anytime," Hermione said. "Let's go get some lunch."

After lunch Arithmancy went by in it's usual way, full of numbers and formulae therefore Hermione came out feeling thoroughly refreshed unlike her classmates, for she loved Arithmancy. She went in a very good mood to the Prefect meeting.

"Good afternoon," she said happily as she entered the prefect office.

"Afternoon love," Cedric said, kissing her on the cheek. "You look happy."

"I had Arithmancy," she said clutching her heart. "All is right with the world." Cedric smirked and rolled his eyes. "I'll go and let you get on." Hermione settled herself in the corner.

"Tell me," Tom said as he shifted over to her. "Do you make a habit of flirting mercilessly with every male you come across?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, nonplussed.

"You seem to have been flirting a lot lately, the Weasleys, all of our potions class, Amos over there," he said. Hermione laughed.

"Please," she said. "The Weasleys are my friends as is Cedric, I am not flirting with them it's called interacting like a human being, maybe you could try it sometime."

"I like how you conveniently missed out the potions accusation, and just because I prefer not to converse with imbeciles does not mean I am incapable," he said touchily.

"Then maybe you should prove it once in a while, no one is convinced that is the case," she said. "And for the record, I got my ingredients delivered to my table and I got kindly escorted to my next lesson by someone who has a reputation for being hostile and disagreeable to Gryffindors, don't question my methods. "

Tom smirked. "How devious of you, are you sure you weren't supposed to be in Slytherin."

"I won't pretend it wasn't considered," she disclosed. "But so were Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, so I wouldn't read too much into it."

"Hufflepuff even," Tom mocked.

"Briefly yes… that was embarrassing," Hermione said. "Let me guess the sorting hat barely touched your head and you were placed in Slytherin?"

"A very accurate description of my sorting," he agreed. "How did you tell?"

"You seem like the type," she said breezily.

"Was that meant as an insult Miss Wembdon?" he asked with an air of false politeness.

"Read into it what you will Mr Riddle," she said with sly smile which she could tell would enrage him further. He didn't have time to reply to her as the last prefect had arrived and therefore the meeting was in session. Hermione listened in disbelief as the reason for the meeting became apparent.

Dippet was making them hold a ball… a Halloween ball. Hermione had never heard of anything so ridiculous in her life, she much preferred the idea of a feast.

"So first things first," the Head Girl said after the concept had been explained. "We need a theme."

"Halloween?" a Hufflepuff prefect said unintelligently.

"Can we have a little more originality?" the Head Girl suggested. After a few minutes discussion the prefects decided that the ball was to be formal with everyone's best dress robes. Hermione could tell with one glance at Tom that he felt exactly the same way she did about this idea.

"Does it have to be held in the Great Hall?" one of the prefects asked.

"Not if anyone can think of anywhere better," Cedric replied.

"How about outside!" one suggested, many others nodded and expressed their agreement.

"But won't it be a bit cold at Halloween at night?" the Head Girl asked.

"Heat spells," Hermione said in a bored voice, her face impassive and leaning on her hand.

"Excellent idea Hermione!" Cedric beamed. "We could have it in the main courtyard and make the lawn into a dance floor and the undercover parts, places for punch and food and stuff." He smiled happily when the room was filled with nodding and exclamations of what a great idea it was. Hermione rolled her eyes at how every girl in the room seemed so eager to please Cedric and agree with his every word.

With that sorted the meeting was adjourned and finally Hermione was allowed to leave.

"Well wasn't that pointless and lengthy," Tom said under his breath.

"Tell me about it," Hermione sighed. "As prefects do we actually have to go?" Tom nodded sombrely.

"We have to attend all social functions, Quidditch matches, balls, everything," he said.

"Urgh, Quidditch," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"I thought all Gryffindors liked Quidditch," he remarked.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm all for Gryffindor winning and if my friends are playing I want to see them do well and support them. But I don't like flying and the game is repetitive and dull," she said.

"It seems we agree on something then," he said in disbelief.

"Don't go around telling people that Riddle, I have a reputation you know," Hermione teased. Tom just rolled his eyes and glared at the person who dared interrupt their conversation.

"Excuse me for intruding," said a striking boy with dark hair and blue eyes, a family trait in this time it seemed. "But I came to introduce myself to you, Miss Wembdon, my little brother insisted I did so at the earliest opportunity, he says you are a very pleasant and talented witch. Alphard Black," he said extending his hand out toward her.

"It is an honour to be so highly regarded by your brother Mr Black, I'm sure he give me more praise than I deserve, it is lovely to meet you," she said as he planted a kiss on the back of her hand. Hermione had to supress a smirk as she remembered what Sirius had told her about his uncle Alphard, how he wasn't actually a bad person, despite being a Black and a Slytherin.

"I hate to seem hasty Miss Wembdon, but I feel I should do this now before hundreds of other offers are made to you. Would you do me the honour of attending the Halloween ball with me?" He asked confidently with a self-assured, but not unpleasant smirk.

"I would love to," she replied.

"Thank you Miss Wembdon," he said bowing his head to her.

"Please, call me Hermione," she said with a wide smile that lit up her eyes.

"Only if you will call me Alphard," he said charmingly in a deep, velvety voice.

"If you insist Alphard," Hermione responded.

"May I escort you back to your common room _Hermione_?" He asked.

"That would be lovely," she replied before turning to Tom. "Good day Mr Riddle." With that she took the arm which Alphard Black offered her and ignored the glare Tom gave the two of them as Alphard asked whether he could carry her bag for her.

"So who has dates for the ball," Venres asked as a group of Gryffindors sat round a table in the common room. Cedric nodded.

"I've got to go with Clarissa," he said.

"Oh yeah," Venres said. "Two Heads together, how sweet. What about you Mione?"

"I'm going with Alphard Black," she said, not looking up from her homework.

"Cygnus' brother, the Slytherin seventh year prefect?" Septimus asked, she nodded in response. "When did he ask you?"

"About five minutes after the ball was announced last week, at the prefect meeting," she explained.

"Got many more offers since then?" Venres asked, nudging her with his elbow and watching in delight as the blush rose in Hermione's cheeks. "That's a yes. Aint our Mione popular. How many? Hundreds?"

"A few?" she said irritably.

"Come on, tell us who," Septimus said. "Go on!"

"No," she said firmly. "I shall not, it's bad enough that I had to reject them I'm not going to have you ridicule them as well."

"Must you ruin our fun?" Venres asked.

"Yes," Hermione said with a self-satisfied smile. "Have you two got dates yet?"

"Not yet," Venres answered. "But no one can resist my charms."

"Actually…" Septimus said awkwardly.

"You didn't tell me!" Venres said outraged.

"I asked Maggie in Transfiguration," he said with a shrug.

"Right that's it, if Seppy here can get a date like Maggie Lawson I'm going to have no problem," he said rising from the desk. "See you guys in a bit." Hermione and Septimus shared a look and shook their heads.

Ten minutes later Venres arrived back, looking very smug.

"Two words my friends," he said as he threw himself into the chair. "Patricia Burrow."

"The Ravenclaw?" Hermione asked, if she was who she thought she was, she was very pretty. Venres nodded.

"There is no way she would go out with you," Septimus said incredulously.

"Tell that to the lipstick mark Seppy," Venres said, leaning over to show him the red mark on his cheek. "I have a way with the ladies."

**Chapter Fourteen- Tampering with Emotions**

Hermione was sat alone in the library, putting the finishing touches to her History of Magic essay; the boys were down on the Quidditch pitch as they all wanted to see how well Cedric could fly. Hermione could see it now, they'd all come back, muddy and exhausted proclaiming how fantastic Cedric was at seeking and hail him as a god and new member of the team.

What was it with boys and Quidditch?

"Good evening Miss Wembdon," came a silky voice from behind her.

"Good evening Mr Riddle," she replied with a nod.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked, though it was clear that he didn't care if she minded, he was going to sit there anyway.

"Be my guest, I was just leaving anyway," Hermione said rolling up her parchment and giving him a sarcastic smile.

"Oh don't leave on my account," he said with false concern. "That's a very… violent book on Goblin Rebellions there, restricted section?"

"Yes. Slughorn gave me permission," she replied in a clipped voice.

"Didn't flirt it out of him did you?" he asked spitefully leaning in closer toward her.

"Mr Riddle do you have a problem?" Hermione asked, suddenly noticing what a secluded corner of the library they were in.

"In fact I do Miss Wembdon," he said, his dark, dangerous eyes piercing through her, Hermione felt he was boring into her soul. She slammed her occlumency shields up. "What would happen…" he said in a silky and seductive voice as he leaned forward again and brushed his fingertips softly over her cheekbone. "If I flirted my way to everything I want." His hot breathed fanned about her face and Hermione suddenly felt herself unable to move. He smirked nastily and leaned back into his chair, breaking contact with her. "That's what I thought," his usual disdainful tone back in place.

Hermione's face turned into a scowl and she glowered darkly at him, Tom thought she would blush or giggle… that's what all the girls did.

"Well excuse me Tom, when you stop seducing and torturing people to get you _want,_ I will stop flirting with people to get what I _need_," she spat angrily, rising from the desk and gathering her books.

"How did you even know-"

"It was a long shot," Hermione interrupted. "But thank you for clarifying that for me." Then she continued sarcastically. "Now if you'll excuse me there are much more attractive and pleasant people in Gryffindor tower I would love to go and flirt with, maybe you can find someone in your common room who will sleep with you, rather than you having to endure my company. Good evening."

As he watched her walk away Tom expected to be angry, furious in fact. But he wasn't, instead he was amused… almost pleasantly so. No girl had ever stood up to him like that… no one at all had actually. He seemed to instil two emotions in people, fear or lust, often both. Never this… if Tom was feeling particularly arrogant he would have called it passion rather than loathing or abhorrence, and it just so happened that arrogant was exactly what he was feeling.

"Come in," came the call from inside Dumbledore's office. "Ah Hermione, I was wanting to speak with you, come in, come in. Cup of tea?"

"Thank you Professor," she said closing the door behind her and sitting in the chair opposite his desk.

"No Cedric today?" he asked, pouring two cups of tea.

"He's playing Quidditch," Hermione replied.

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore chuckled. "I could have guessed as much. Now what is it that made you decide to come and visit me?"

"The plan isn't working," Hermione said dejectedly. "He doesn't want to be friends with me, but he... I think he might be becoming a little bit obsessed with me."

"How so," Dumbledore asked in polite interest.

"Now don't get me wrong Professor, if he were any other boy I would think nothing more about it. But Tom Riddle has been starting conversations with me. I insult him and he forgets it by the next time we speak, he deliberately seeks me out. Like today in the library he chose to come and sit on the table I was working at, despite the abundance of free tables. From all you've shown us about Tom Riddle this doesn't seem to be very like him, he's proud and merciless and doesn't forgive or enjoy the company of other people" she explained in earnest.

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised and his eyes twinkled a little more than usual.

"This is excellent news," he said happily.

"How so?" Hermione asked.

"To my knowledge Tom Riddle has never shown an interest in another human being before now," Dumbledore said. "This is excellent news indeed and we will play it to our advantage."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowing.

"We are going to make him more obsessed with you than ever," he said.

"That sounds an awful lot like tampering with someone's heart, Albus," Hermione reprimanded.

"We are proving he has one," Dumbledore said curtly, looking at her over his half-moon spectacles.

"It's wrong, Cedric will never agree to it," she said.

"Then do not tell him," he said.

"Are you trying to get me to lie to Cedric?" Hermione asked, outraged and offended.

"Hermione dear," Dumbledore said in a calm and grave voice. "I hate to use this expression on you, but it is for the _greater good_." Hermione's heart sank, for Dumbledore to use that phrase meant he was serious. He was the one person she could count on to not use that expression lightly. Hermione looked up at the old wizard and sighed slightly.

"How do we do it?" she asked miserably.

"That is where I come in; if I know anything at all about Tom Riddle it is that he wants what people say he can't have. Immortality is a prime example of this fact. I shall forbid him to talk to you, I shall say I do not want his bad influence affecting my god daughter," he said.

"You think it will work?" Hermione asked.

"I am positive," Dumbledore said with a nod.

"Fine," Hermione said shortly. "But I still think it is wrong."

"I am sorry Hermione," Dumbledore sighed. "But I feel it is the only way we can go from here." Hermione nodded but could not look at him, he was being unnecessarily manipulative. Some things don't change. "In other news I have a letter from Highmaster Tarasov."

"The Durmstrang highmaster?" Hermione asked.

"The very same, he and I have decided to offer you the opportunity to travel to Durmstrang for a week in November," he said.

"Why?"

"That is when his sixth years will sit their Higher Certificate in Dark Magic," Dumbledore explained. "I would like you to join them."

"Again, why?" Hermione asked.

"I feel it would be beneficial for you to know what you are up against," Dumbledore said. "Tarasov is very keen for you experience life at his school and Eastern European customs."

"Of course I would be delighted to go, who else is?"

"Just you I am afraid, Cedric is too old now and I can't trust anyone else not to get sucked in," he said with a smile.

"So what shall I tell the others?" Hermione asked.

"Tell you classmates you are going to Durmstrang on my wishes, because I want you to become an auror and therefore feel it would be beneficial for you to have some hands on experience with the Dark Arts they offer," he said.

"Okay" Hermione said, her voice cracking a little.

"Nervous about going on your own, Hermione?" Dumbledore asked knowingly.

"No," Hermione insisted. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows perceptively. "Okay maybe a little."

"You shall be fine Hermione, you probably know more Dark Magic than most of the students, despite the fact they have been studying it for six years," he said in what was meant to be a kind and reassuring way. Hermione just looked at him with a deadpan expression.

"Fantastic," she said in a monotone.

**Chapter Fifteen- Trivial Conflict**

'_What on earth could Dumbledore want? I haven't done anything and nothing has happened which I could be blamed for. Stupid old codger, interrupting the time I could be spending with the Knights'._

Tom walked angrily down the corridor toward the transfiguration professor's office, his immaculate black robes billowing behind him. As he finally reached the transfiguration corridor where Dumbledore's office was situated he saw Cedric walking with two Ravenclaw seventh year pretty girls, Tom smirked.  
_'Be my guest, have my left overs all you want.'_

His smirk was quickly wiped from his face as the trio walked past him and the only one to acknowledge his present was Cedric. The two girls did not even spare him a glance, too enthralled by their new companion to tear their eyes away from his handsome face.

Tom's jaw set and he glared at Cedric with all the anger he could muster, what was more infuriating was when Cedric just smirked in indifference. Tom vowed furiously to teach that Gryffindor idiot a lesson he wouldn't forget. But not here, not outside Dumbledore's office.

He rapped loudly on the heavy wooden door.

"Come in Tom," came the call from inside. He opened the door and stepped into his office.

"You wanted to see me Professor?" Tom asked politely. Dumbledore looked at him sternly.

"Yes Tom, do sit down," he replied in a hard voice. "I'm not going to beat around the Wiggenbush here Tom, I summoned you here for a very specific reason, one of which is very important to me." Tom sat down uncomfortably and raised his eyebrows in confusion. "It has come to my attention that you have been conversing with god daughter."

"Hermione Wembdon?" he asked

"The very same. That has to stop this instant," Dumbledore said as he rose from his chair and started to pace about the room. "Hermione is a sweet girl who has been… corrupted shall we say by incidents in her past. She is also very talented and I would hate for those talents to misused. It is my wish that she is not exposed and therefore influenced by you. I am sure we can have no misunderstandings about what I could mean by _your_ influence, you and I both know what you're like Tom. Hermione is my god daughter, my responsibility and I am going to look out for her best interests whatever happens. I cannot threaten you with expulsion if you do not comply with my wishes but I assure you, you shall suffer my _displeasure_. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Professor." .

"Good, you may go, it's almost curfew. Good night Tom," he said, abruptly dismissing him from his office Tom got up and left without another word, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

'_It bothers Dumbledore does it? A bad influence eh? All the more reason to do it', _he thought as he sauntered through the castle. He decided to take a walk through one of the more secluded areas of Hogwarts to collect his thoughts despite it being past curfew. As he rounded the corner of a corridor which overlooked the Black Lake he noticed two figures at the end, illuminated by candle light.

"Come on, go with me to Slughorn's party," one of them pleaded. "You know you want to."

"Cedric, some people have already asked me," what Tom recognized was Hermione's voice answered. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Oh like Rosier? Please don't tell me you said you'd go with him," Cedric replied.

"I haven't said yes to anyone yet," Hermione said diplomatically.

"You're already going with a Slytherin to the Halloween Ball, don't go to the party as well," Cedric said.

"It's not only Slytherins who asked me," Hermione said embarrassedly. "Beside Cedric, I spent two years almost exclusively in your company, can you not spare me?"

"When you put it like that I sound pathetic," Cedric laughed. "I just think the Slytherins are a bad influence on you."

"Please, if anything I'm a bad influence on them, I'll be honest with you Ced, I just don't want to get on the wrong side of all your fan girls," she teased.

"I do not have fan girls!"

"Oh Cedric, you're so handsome, so strong, such a good flyer," Hermione mocked playfully, spinning on the spot and clutching her heart.

"Don't make me hex you," Cedric said good-naturedly.

"Ventus," Hermione sang with a flick of her wand, sending a spiral of wind at Cedric's face, blowing his hair and making him stagger backward a pace.

"Tarantella," he said firing his wand at Hermione's feet. She shrieked slightly as she jumped into the hair to avoid the jinx which would make her feet dance uncontrollably.

"No you don't!" she called as she ran along the corridor. "Rictusempra," she cried as she turned and pointed her wand in Cedric's direction, the tickling charm missed him by an inch. She halted very abruptly when she saw she was running straight for Tom. "Riddle," she said breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.

"Miss Wembdon," he replied coolly. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I could ask you the same question," Cedric interrupted, coming and standing next to Hermione.

"I'm a prefect," Tom stated.

"As is Hermione," Cedric said in an icy tone. "You aren't on duty this evening."

"Nor is Hermione," he pointed out. "Nor are you."

"I'm Head Boy. I'm always on duty. She's here with me," Cedric said with a smile.

"Cedric," Hermione said warningly. "He's right, I'm not meant to be here either. A suggest we strike up a deal." The two boys looked at her with frowns and obvious loathing for each other on their faces. "You shall not repeat that we were here sending first years jinxes at each other this evening and Cedric will pretend he never saw you."

"Deal," Cedric said slowly narrowing her eyes.

"Fine," Tom agreed.

"Excellent, come on Cedric let's go to bed," Hermione said tugging on his arm. Tom raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh Merlin, not like that." Tom smirked and brushed past her.

The next day in Transfiguration Dumbledore lectured on human transfiguration before he sent them off to work in pairs and try to turn each other's hair blue. Before Hermione had the chance to pair up with a fellow Gryffindor Tom sauntered over to her and asked her in a very loud voice to be his partner. She groaned; there was no way she could just pretend she didn't hear him and walk away.

"Of course Mr Riddle," she said expressionlessly.

"Please, call me Tom," he said charmingly, casting a glance over to Dumbledore.

"I think Mr Riddle is fine," Hermione said in low voice.

"I insist," he said with a large smile.

"Right," she replied. "Would you like to go first, Tom?"

"First with what Hermione," he asked politely. Hermione looked at him again with a deadpan expression.

"The spell and when on earth did you start calling me Hermione?" she asked growing increasingly agitated.

"We're on first name basis now, Hermione," he said with an annoying smile.

"Mione you don't have to go with that snake," Venres called from the other side of the classroom.

"Unfortunately for you Weasel, she already accepted my offer, better luck next time," he said maliciously. By now the whole class was watching.

"Oh shove off Riddle, everyone knows she doesn't like you, leave her alone," he called.

"Or what Weasley?" Tom mocked. "Going to fly me to death? Seeing as you can't transfigure a button." Hermione had had enough, with an angry flick of her wand, the handsome Slytherin shrunk.

"Why in the name of Merlin is there a pygmy goat in my classroom#'" Dumbledore asked from the front. "And where is Mr Riddle?" Hermione's hand shot up to cover her mouth and her eyes widened. This was not good; she'd transfigured Lord Voldemort into a goat. There was thunderous laughter around her from all the students, but all Hermione could think was that he was probably going to murder her. "Hermione," Dumbledore said in a stern tone. "Kindly change Mr Riddle back."

"Are you sure he can't just stay like this forever?" Hermione asked in a soft voice.

"Now," Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Okay," with another twirl of her wand the small goat at her feet grew once again into Tom, who looked shocked but not dishevelled.

"What just happened?" he asked, looking round the room at the grins on the faces of his classmates.

"Thirty points to Gryffindor, lovely transfiguration for a sixth year, but I'm afraid you will have to serve detention for transfiguring Tom against his will… though he did look quite endearing as a goat. My office at eight on Wednesday, you too Tom and Venres verbal abuse in my classroom is not tolerated, you could have at least found a more amusing way to earn yourselves detention," he chuckled. "Back to work all of you. Chop chop."

"Why did you transfigure me into a goat," Tom asked her through gritted teeth once everyone had got back to their own work."

"I thought you knew I didn't take kindly to people who insult my friends," Hermione said innocently. "Besides I didn't mean to turn you into a goat."

"That's a lie."

"Okay I meant to turn you into a goat, but you were mouthing off at one of my friends and I really didn't want to listen to you anymore, so I accidently turned you into a goat. I wouldn't have done it if I weren't so annoyed," Hermione said quickly.

"He started it," he replied childishly, but the hint of hatred was still there. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Can't you hurry up and turn my hair blue already?"

**Chapter Sixteen- Human Duty**

Hermione entered the common room, desperately searching for someone. On spotting him she fell down at his knees and assumed an excellent grovelling position. Venres looked very confused as he lay on the sofa by the fire as to what she was doing.

"Venres I need a favour," she pleaded.

"You turned Riddle into a goat because he insulted me last week, I'll give you anything," he said as stretched and sat up. "What is it?"

"Crabbe just asked me to go to the Slug Club party with him and I told him I couldn't and he got all in my face, asking why and I kind of said that I had already agreed to go with someone else but I haven't. Will you please go with me, I want to go with someone I know isn't a weirdo," she said very fast. Venres grinned.

"Of course Mione, I'll save you from the snakes," he said. "Although that doesn't make us even for you doing that to Riddle, I'll have to think of another way to repay you. Maybe I should have the weirdo thing made into t-shirts."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, it would be a great conversation starter and-

"Not the t-shirt thing."

"Oh, well you transformed Riddle into a goat, therefore I have to pay you back and clear the debt, but being a pretty witch's date to a party isn't exactly a hardship," he said with a wink. She rolled her eyes but smiled.

"Thank you Venres," she said squeezing his hand briefly. "It's on Saturday at eight. It's a smart casual…trousers and shirt kind of thing."

"I shall meet you down here at eight then, we can be fashionably late," he said with a grin. "Now unless you have more favours to ask of me, I think I shall get back to my nap."

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you," she laughed. "And I'm also sorry to have to break it to you, but we have that detention in ten minutes." Venres groaned and rolled of the sofa sleepily.

Hermione and Venres arrived at Dumbledore's office five minutes late, not that he minded. Riddle on the other hand did mind very much, he sent them death glares; it seemed he had arrived a quarter of an hour before the detention was due to begin.

"Excellent, now we're all here," Dumbledore said clapping his hands. "Venres, I would like you mark the tests of these first years, Tom would you mind doing the same for the second years and Hermione can get started on the third years after she has filled out this form," he said as three stacks of exams dropped with a loud thud onto the desk.

"What's the form?" Hermione asked.

"It's the Durmstrang one, you and I both have to fill some things in before we can hand it in to Professor Dippet, who has to approve it and send it off to Tarasov," he said handing it to her. "I will be back in a few minutes."

"Durmstrang?" Venres asked, opening the first test paper.

"Yes I'm going to Durmstrang for a week in November," Hermione explained.

"Cool…Why?" he asked.

"To take the Higher Certificate in Dark Magic," Hermione said. She noticed Tom's previous disinterest suddenly disappear as she said this.

"Why would you take that?" he asked impolitely.

"Because I have the General Certificate and Dumbledore wants me to get the higher, they only do it in Durmstrang and he wants me to become an auror… something about seeing what I'll be up against or …something," she said nonchalantly.

"You don't strike me as the auror type, Hermione," Tom said with a smirk. Hermione let out a laugh.

"I think you'd make a brilliant auror Mione," Venres said with a wink. "Would you do cavity searches?"

"Weasley do you have to be so crude? That is not the type of thing you say to a lady," Tom exclaimed in disgust. Hermione laughed again.

"I wouldn't say it to an actual lady," he replied winking at Hermione again.

"Does that mean you're taking a boy to Slughorn's party… interesting," she retorted in amusement.

"I should have thought that one through," he laughed.

"Wait, you're going with this guy to Slughorn's party?" Tom asked.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Seriously… this guy right here," Tom said in disbelief.

"Please, don't spare my feelings," Venres laughed, rolling his eyes to Hermione.

"Venres here was my first choice," Hermione said, giving him a smile.

"You can take a Hufflepuff to Hogsmeade and a Ravenclaw to the Christmas Ball and you'll have collected a whole set!" Venres laughed.

"That is utterly ridiculous," Tom spat. The two Gryffindor rolled their eyes and got back to their work.

Hermione was walking slowly down a corridor on the fourth floor, her watch said only seven minutes until she could stop patrolling and retreat to the warm comfort of her bed. She yawned and held up her lantern a little higher, by now seriously contemplating just going to bed. Suddenly she heard someone take a rattling breath behind her, as she span around her fatigue was quickly replaced by alarm and adrenaline. At the end of the corridor was the crawling form of a student, Hermione swore under her breath and rushed toward them. They were gagging for air and shaking uncontrollably. As she sunk down to her knees next to the boy, she noticed it was Rosier. She had never thought she would see a Death Eater so defenceless.

"Hermione," he choked, reaching out and clutching the material of her skirt. Her heart sank as she realized what was wrong; he was displaying all the symptoms of overexposure to the Cruciatus Curse.

"It's okay Carlton," she said soothingly. "I'm going to help." She wracked her brains as she thought about where she could take him. Not the hospital wing…they would realize what had happened there. There was only one thing for it. "Come on, can you put your arm around my shoulders?" After three flights of stairs and what felt like miles of corridor, Hermione finally got to her destination.  
_I need somewhere for him to heal and rest__  
__I need somewhere for him to heal and rest__  
__I need somewhere for him to heal and rest_

Hermione pulled him into the room and laid him on the hospital-like bed that had appeared. She hurried over to the cabinet in the corner and rifled through the potions which were there. She picked up two small bottles and brought them back to the boy who was tossing and turning whislt sweating troublingly.

"Carlton," she said softly. He didn't reply but she knew he could hear her. "I need you to take this." He nodded weakly and allowed her to slip the potions down his throat. "It will stop the shaking and make you sleep."

"It hurts, everything hurts," he moaned pathetically just as he succumbed to his induced sleep.

"I know it does," she whispered as she held his hand. "I know."

Hermione searched through his pockets when he had fallen into a deeper sleep. There she found his timetable, he had a free period first thing tomorrow and then Potions with her. Hermione decided that she would make him sleep until in then and then they would both go to Potions.

The next morning when Hermione was pale, exhausted and tear streaked. She had stayed with Rosier all night watching him sleep off his torture; Hermione knew exactly why it had affected her so much. She had had to do the very same ministrations for so many of her friends. Many who were descended from or friends of the very person she had helped. But she couldn't _not _help him, he was just a boy he hadn't done any of the horrific things yet, he was just a teenager who had been tortured and she would bet The Hallows she knew who did it.

"What happened to you, Hermione?" Tom asked her as they waited outside the Ancient Runes classroom.

"Shut the hell up Riddle," she spat, crossing her arms and glowering at him.

"Whats wr-"

"Do. Not. Talk. To. Me." She uttered her voice low and dangerous. Tom could tell she was seething, but also terribly upset. Sometime twinged within him and he vowed to make whoever caused her to feel that terrible pay. He would talk to her again in Potions, give her time to cool off.

After ancient Runes Hermione rushed back up to Rosier, she sat at the side of his bed and watched him as the sleeping draught slowly wore off.

"It hurts," he groaned.

"What hurts?" she asked him.

"Everything." Hermione jumped up to get him some pain relief potion as he tried to sit up.

"How long was I out?" he asked.

"We've got Potions in twenty minutes," Hermione said, passing him some of the potion. He swigged, recoiling at the bitter taste. "Do you feel any better?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," he said his muscles visibly becoming less tense. Hermione smiled at him and put her hand over his forehead.

"Where did you find me?" he croaked.

"Fourth flour, I was on prefect duty," Hermione said. She then whispered something to him, looking deeply into his grey eyes. "Did _he_ do this to you?"

"I can't tell you," he muttered. "He'll know and he'll kill me. He made us swear vows." Hermione nodded removed her hand from his forehead.

"I understand," she said softly. "We've got to go to potions." She flicked her wand and a set of neatly folded robes appeared on the end of the bed.

"Thank you Hermione," Rosier said sincerely. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't found me. If you ever need a favour… anything, let me know."

"It was my pleasure," Hermione said with a small smile. "I'm glad you're okay." And she meant it, she didn't care how many people he would have killed, that his son would torture her in the future, she just didn't want him to hurt anymore. Because he was a person.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"That's not important," she replied dismissively.

"I'll humour you," he said.

"Thank you, I'll wait outside whilst you change."

After Rosier had re-dressed he and Hermione walked slowly down to the dungeons, Hermione almost buckling under the weight of him. They were two minutes late to potions and walked into an already assembled class.

"I'm sorry we're late Professor, Rosier twisted his ankle on the stairs," Hermione lied.

"So you stopped to help your classmate Miss Wembdon, how kind of you. Five points for Gryffindor," he said happily. Hermione thanked him, helped him into his seat and sat down in her usual spot, next to Tom Riddle. Today was a theory lesson so Hermione was sure she would be spared from having to converse with him. She was sadly mistaken.

_Why were you with Rosier?_

The note was in elegant handwriting on scrap of parchment from her right.

_Because he needed my help_, she scribbled back angrily.

_You didn't go back to your dormitory last night, Olivia told me, _came another note.

_That's none of your business_ Hermione replied.

_Nor did Rosier _came the reply.

Hermione screwed the piece of parchment up and placed it on the table. Ten minutes before Slughorn would dismiss his class Hermione raised her hand and asked to be excused, claiming not to be feeling very well and to be in of need a lie down. He of course let her leave and she did so gladly but she had no such luck as to avoid Tom Riddle as she had planned. He seemed to have played the 'maybe I should accompany her to make sure she doesn't faint card.'

"Hermione," he called as he ran easily up the stairs to the Entrance Hall and grabbed her wrist, she quickly wrenched it away.

"Do not touch me," she said angrily.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked not unkindly.

"What's wrong with _me_?" she asked in disbelief.

"Why didn't you go back to your dormitory, why were you with Rosier?" he asked. Hermione gritted her teeth and scowled at the boy in front of her. He didn't look like a monster, but looks were deceiving.

"I was on prefect duty last night," she said shortly. He didn't react. "You might not know this _Tom,_ but I am _very _familiar with the Cruciatus curse and it's after effects. Can you think of no reason why neither Rosier nor I went back to our dorms last night?"

"Are you insinuating I had something to do with it?" he asked, but his face was betraying him.

"Yes," she said firmly.

"Did Rosier tell you that?" he asked, his eyes burning into her own, trying to make her retreat. She refused to back down.

"No. But do not insult my intelligence by thinking I am so dense that I would not put two and two together, you are the only one academically or morally capable of it," she spat.

"You have no proof I ever did anything," he said with a evil smirk.

"No, but you and I both know it," she said.

"Why did you help him?" he asked, brow creased in curiosity.

"Did you expect me to walk away from someone in that condition, to leave them in the corridor?" Hermione asked in outrage, she then did something Tom was definitely not expecting. She stalked toward him and jabbed her wand into the hollow under his jaw menacingly. "You have no idea what it is like to be put under the torture curse, you have no idea what it is like to see it done to the people you love. I may not like Rosier but he is a person."

Hermione noticed with some kind of twisted satisfaction that Tom was worried, she could see it in his eyes. Desperately he reached for his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted. Hermione's wand flew from her hand, but she did not look scared or ashamed, like Tom had hoped, she looked very smug and strong. He barely had time to wonder about her behaviour before he was sent flying back into the stone wall, both wands falling to the ground, he reached out urgently to grab them but he was halted by the heel of Hermione's shoe smashing down onto his hand. He gritted his teeth through the pain.

"Don't you dare ever raise your wand at me," Hermione hissed contemptuously. "If you force me, yes force me to stay up all night again, taking care of one of _your_ stupid followers who you have mercilessly tortured I will make sure you are expelled. I will take care of them, every single time. I owe them that for being human beings, someone was there for me when I needed them in the same way. I would do that for them no matter who they are. You were stupid enough to use the curse for too long a time; you should have known there were lasting effects. It was your fault I found out." Hermione heard footsteps coming from down the passage; she quickly removed her foot from Tom's hand and plastered a fake smile on her face. "Do be careful Mr Riddle, your trousers are too long, you shall keep tripping on them if you do not have them shortened." She watched his face cloud with confusion as Professor Slughorn appeared at the bottom of the stairwell. She grasped Tom's hand and pulled him to his feet, ignoring the tingles in her hand. '_How much magic did I hit him with?'_

"Thank you for your advice, it has been most instructive," he said his eyes wide and staring at her, he didn't seem even seem angry. "I shall be sure to keep that in mind."

"Good day to you both," Hermione said, nodding to Professor Slughorn behind Tom. He spun round in surprise at seeing his professor behind him and Hermione walked away. She didn't see Tom's hand twitch or the remorseful look in his eye as he walked away. She probably would have thought it a trick of the light if she had.

**Chapter Seventeen- Confessions and Stratagems**

Tom took a deep breath and walked as confidently as he could over to the table at the back of the library. Hermione was there engaged in her work, her glossy curls falling across her face as she bit her lip in concentration. He was terrified.

"Do you mind if I sit here," Tom asked quietly. Hermione looked up in alarm but shook her head mutely. Was she scared he would do something to her? "I'm sorry," he muttered so sofly she hardly heard it. She raised her eyebrows at him and he had to look down at the wood of the desk again, guilt welling up inside of him. "I'm sorry you had to look after him, I'm sorry it upset you."

Hermione's face was still miserable.

"You don't know why it upset me do you?" she asked softly. He shook his head minutely and raised his gaze once again. "A very good friend of mine had to live with his grandmother all his life because his parents were tortured to insanity by that curse. I've had it used on me on twelve different occasions thus far and I've had to heal my friends afterward more times than I care to remember." Hermione's lips trembled and she had to look away. "I have used twice." Her voice was choked up and her disappointment with herself shone through her eyes. "I didn't have choice, but until this day it haunts me."

"I had no idea," Tom whispered, watching her eyes shine with tears although none fell.

"No one does," Hermione said.

"Not even what's-his-name, Cedric?" he asked. Hermione shook her head and licked her lips.

"He was there a lot, but not every time," Hermione said.

"Why wasn't he protecting you?" he asked.

"He wasn't there, he was busy doing more important things," she replied, defending her friend.

"More important than saving you from torture?" he asked in disbelief.

"There are many people who are more important than me and he saved their lives," Hermione said. "But I shouldn't talk about. I was told not to. He wouldn't want me to say." Tom nodded there was another long pause. "I'm sorry about your hand," she said stiffly, gesturing to the angry red indentation where she had wounded him with her heel.

"I deserved it, but I didn't mean to hurt you, the fact I only disarmed you shows that I honestly didn't," he said in a slightly pleading tone, though there was an edge of discomfort to his voice.

"But you meant to hurt Rosier," she pointed out.

"That's different," he said defensively. Hermione raised her eyebrows as an invitation for him to continue. "He disobeyed me."

"Do you have to have people obey you?" Hermione asked, he stayed silent and didn't look back to her; she leaned in toward and spoke in a tender voice. "There is more to life than tyranny Tom, friendship is always preferable to followers."

"Maybe for those who are capable of friendship," he said softly, Hermione's eyes widened at his confession.

"Everyone is capable of friendship Tom," she said seriously, he finally looked up again and locked gaze with her, his face was full of apprehension. "How did he disobey you?" she asked. His uneasiness only got more pronounced but he did not falter. After a long pause and a long internal deliberation he finally parted his lips.

"He asked you to Slughorn's party," he said emotionlessly. Hermione didn't know how to respond so she just stared at him, not noticing what a close proximity they were in until Tom's gaze shifted to her lips. Ever so slowly he seemed to be closing the distance between them, Hermione could feel her breathing become more laboured and her heart beat faster.

There was less than an inch between them, she could feel his breath playing on her lips and the slightly spicy scent of his aftershave.

"Oi Hermione," came the shout from behind one of the bookshelves, the two of them jumped away from each other and looked in opposite directions, Hermione's hand busied it's self in the back of her hair. "There you are," came the voices of the Weasley twins. "We've got something really important to show you."

"Now?" she asked her eyes flicking to Tom.

"Yes, it's now or never," Septimus said with a grin. Hermione nodded.

"Excuse me Tom," she said slightly shakily.

"Goodbye Hermione," he said politely, though still not looking at her.

"What's going on?" she asked the Weasleys as they hurried from the library.

"We have to go to Hogsmeade dearest Hermione," Septimus explained. "We need you because you already have an apparation licence."

"Why does that matter?" she asked.

"Because if you have an apparation licence from two years ago they will assume you are at least nineteen, they won't realize you got it on the continent, earlier," Venres said.

"I regret telling you that now," Hermione said as she was ushered to the statue which led to Hogsmeade. "Fire whiskey?"

"Indeed, aren't you the bright witch," Venres cooed.

"Either that or you've been in Gryffindor too long to be in doubt of out motives," Septimus added.

"Why didn't you ask a seventh year?" Hermione asked.

"That would really take the surprise out of the surprise party we are holding in their honour," Venres said with a grin.

"Their honour?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, the last one passed their apparation exam today, August baby, we are holding a congratulations party," Venres explained.

"You know us Gryffindors, any excuse for a party," Septimus laughed. As they neared the end of the tunnel the trio stopped and Venres pulled out a large bag of sickles. "Hermione you transfigure your uniform and go and by the alcohol, Venres you go and buy the food they don't have in the kitchens and I will go and get some decorations."

"Fine I'll do it, even though it is morally questionable," Hermione gave in.

"Good old Mione," Venres said and both of them simultaneously kissed her on the cheek.

Where did you get all that money?" Hermione asked as her clothes changed from black robes to midnight blue and her shirt and tie turned into a pretty blouse.

"We asked for a contribution from the years one to six," Venres explained.

"I haven't put anything in," Hermione said guiltily.

"But you are doing what no one else can," Venres said with a grin. "Meet back here in quarter of an hour."

As promised the three of them slipped back through the trapdoor fifteen minutes later.

"Everything go okay?" Hermione asked the twins.

"Yep, did you not manage it?" he asked Hermione who was not carrying anything. She flicked her wand and lifted the invisibility charm which was covering the crates she was levitating behind her.

"These were a pig to get through the shop," she stated as they started the journey back through the passage.

"Excellent," Septimus said with a grin. "We'll leave these at the other end of the passage and come back for them later. All seventh years have to been in the Entrance Hall at half past four for a careers lecture or something so we will come back and get it then. So when they come back to the common room they will be surprised."

"Thanks for your help Mione," Venres said as she changed her clothes back to normal. "You have been of great assistance."

"Do Gryffindors spend every Friday night getting hammered and having common room parties?" Hermione asked.

"YES!" the twins chorused. "We're not boring Ravenclaws!"

Hermione was in front of the fire talking to some fifth years about the Patronus charm when the Weasleys called for quiet in the common room.

"OI! Oi! QUIET THE LOT OF YOU!" Venres shouted, his voice magically enhanced so that he was loud enough to be heard over the din. "SHUT THE HELL UP!" Everyone's eyes turned to him and Septimus who were stood on one of the more sturdy looking tables. "Thank you," he said at more normal volume.

"As you all know tonight is the night of the surprise party for our esteemed seventh years, they will be back in an estimated twenty three minutes giving us just enough time to organize this common room, we of course have a very efficient plan of action," Septimus explained in true army general style unrolling a plan view of the castle..

"First years stand up," Venres shouted, as ordered all the first years rose from their seats. "You four go and guard the grand staircase." He said pointing at a group of children with his wand, and then the grand staircase on the map. "You two the staircase leading from the fourth to seventh floors. You two the tapestry of Ulfric the Unmentionable. You two the bridge from the West Wing. When you see a seventh year coming this way you run! And I mean run faster than you have ever run before, back here to warn us, it's likely they will all come up together. You stop for nothing. If a teacher stops you, say you're running to the bathroom and do not stop running. The code word is valour, if you see another Gryffindor shout it at them to get them to head back to the common room as well. Understand what you have to do?" There was a chorus of yeses from the first years who nodded enthusiastically, excited to be involved. "This is the most important job!" Venres said. "If a seventh year comes in and we are not ready, the party is a failure. When you get back you hide on the stairs to the dormitories. Go. Go. Go."

"Right all second years will follow me to the kitchens and wait in the passage whilst I pass food out okay?" Septimus asked them loudly. Again there were enthusiastic nods of agreement; all of them had seen the Weasleys organize parties before. "Fifth years will accompany us as body guards to scare away younger students from different houses; we are condoning the use of hexes on this mission. The two fifth year prefects however are in charge of music, we can't have you hexing any firsties. You know where everything is I assume? " All the fifth years agreed happily and the prefects replied that they did indeed know where everything was.

"Third years are in charge of decorations, sixth years Theo and Robert will oversee this operation, the decorations are in boxes in the study room," Venres instructed. "The main banner is the size of a bed sheet and must be hung directly in front of the door coming from the portrait hole. Fourth years if you could follow me down to the grounds we need to hide fireworks in strategic locations so that they can be set off when it gets dark. This is a top secret mission; therefore not a word is to be uttered about the fireworks to any seventh year."

"Remaining sixth years are in charge of setting up the food the and drink, can the boys follow Hermione to where the drink is being stored and carried, can the girls find tables ready for the food the second years and I will bring up and help when it arrives," Septimus asked. Again everyone agreed.

"As to where everyone is hiding," Venres said loudly. "As I stated earlier first years will hide on the stairs to the dormitories, make sure no boys hide on the girl's stairs because it will turn into a slide. I would also like the fifth years to join them, to make sure they don't talk and ruin it. Second years please hide behind the curtains," he said gesturing to the long red draping curtains. "And try not to wiggle. Third years in the alcoves in the walls, except the ones which can be seen into properly from the portrait hole. Fourth years duck behind the sofas and armchairs here at the back of the room, and sixth years behind the sofas and armchairs at the front. When there is a flash of blue light it is your cue to jump out and shout congratulations. "

"When a first year comes back with news that the seventh years are coming whoever they tell sets off large red sparks into the common room, when you see the sparks, drop whatever you are doing and hide, if you have finished your task, you hide ready," Septimus said firmly.

"Does everyone know their duties?" Venres shouted. Hermione marvelled at how everyone shouted heartily in the affirmative and were eager to start. "Then let us work quickly my friends, we do not have much time!" Hermione laughed as half of the common room clapped and cheered as they jumped down from the tables. Maybe the twins could get a job in motivational speaking.

Quickly the second and fourth years followed the twins out of the room so Hermione jumped into action, beckoning the sixth year boys to follow her, and they ran down to the statue of the One Eyed Witch.

"How are we meant to make it back up to the seventh floor without being seen with huge crates of Fire whiskey?" one boy asked.

"I'll cast a charm on them to make them invisible," Hermione replied.

"Can you make them lighter too," one boy groaned. Hermione nodded and soon they were on their way back up to the seventh floor. Hermione almost ran past Alphard Black as they passed on the stairs followed by four boys jogging after her.

"Can't stop sorry, really busy," she said very quickly to him, as he opened his mouth to speak to her. "Hurry up you lot!" They made it back in good time, the decorations were almost all up and the tables were set out. Quickly behind them came Septimus and the second years all with arms laden with food. Within minutes all the food was piled onto the tables, which looked as though they may start to buckle at any moment. Everyone started to get into their hiding places and Hermione and Robert got them to shift and duck to make sure they were properly out of view. As they were doing it gaggle of first years came barging in.

"They're at the bottom of the grand staircase!" they squealed.

"Everyone hide!" Septimus yelled in a magically enhanced voice sending red sparks into the air. The fifth years ushered the first years to the stairs, the second years slipped behind the curtains, the third years pressed themselves up against the walls of the alcoves, the forth years-

"Venres isn't back with the forth years!" Hermione yelled, running to the window trying to catch a glimpse of them, no such luck.

"Doesn't matter, hide!" Septimus said.

Just as she ducked behind the sofa by the fire the portrait hole opened and many very out of breath people raced in.

"We had to take a shortcut, almost met them on the stairs!" Venres shouted. "There right behind us!" They barely had time to hide themselves before the portrait hole swung open again. A blinding flash of blue light lit up the entire common room and as soon as the stars had cleared from the eyes of the seventh years everyone jumped up and shouted.

"CONGRATULATIONS!"

Hermione watched in delight as she saw jaws drop and huge smiles appear on the faces of the seventh years taking in the scene before them and the large banner on the wall.

'_CONGRATULATIONS ON ALL PASSING YOUR APPARATION EXAMS!'__  
__(before the other houses)_

"Merlin!" Claudia shouted, the first one to speak. "You guys!" There were many hugs and a few tears from some of the seventh year girls. But before the music was allowed to start and the food tucked into- Claudia forced everyone to huddle up on the back wall, to take a house picture.

Of course after the music started nobody even thought about going down to dinner.

**Chapter Eighteen- The Bravery of Venres Weasley**

Hermione woke uneasily as the light started to pour in through the windows, raising her head from Septimus' stomach she looked about the common room. Most of the house was still asleep on sofas and on the floor after last night. With of a flick of her wand the curtains closed, shutting out the dawn light before it woke anyone else. She inched her way out from under Cedric, Venres and Robert who were using her as a pillow, smiling at the fact that Gryffindors seemed to have very different ideas to the rest of the forties world, the Slytherins would never be caught dead doing this kind of thing. Hermione stretched and started conjuring pillows and blankets which she lay over her fellow Gryffindors whilst trying to ignore the throbbing in her head. When everyone seemed to be a little more comfortable she decided to go to the library, it would probably be open by now. After a quick magical clean of her clothes she left the common room in darkness.

With her headache she found it very hard to concentrate on her book, so instead just stared at it whilst the memories of last night flooded her mind. She thought she may have had too much fire whiskey. She vaguely remembered Dumbledore opening the portrait hole at about midnight and moaning about the noise, wearing striped pyjamas and a long bedcap, only to have a Fire Whiskey or two and dance a few dances. She may have kissed Venres… or Septimus…or both. Her feet hurt from dancing so much and so did her throat.  
Definitely too much Fire Whiskey.

"You're up early," came a deep voice from behind her, she jumped around. "No swearing this time then." Hermione raised her eyebrows at the boy behind her; his lips were quirked in a sort of smile. "I didn't know Gryffindors saw this time of day."

"Good morning to you to Tom and it's not a choice," Hermione groaned, rubbing her head some more, she heard him chuckle and sit down opposite her.

"Are you hung over?" he asked patronizingly.

"Very," she said shortly.

"So that's why you have guacamole in your hair," Tom said, chuckling as Hermione raised a hand to her hair to check, and then get it out with her wand. "I should have guessed it was another celebration in Gryffindor tower, you have more parties than the rest of the houses combined and you do tend to make them flashy. I saw the fireworks and how no one turned up to dinner."

"Cedric and Claudia thought it would be hilarious to pelt Dumbledore with various dips when he came to tell us to shut up at midnight," she justified in embarrassment.

"Another sophisticated Gryffindor get-together then," he scoffed.

"I had an excellent time," Hermione said.

"So how come you're up so early?"

"Because everyone was asleep on the floor of the common room and the light woke me up and I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep again," Hermione explained.

"Isn't that method of resting a little… savage?" Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Why did you have a party anyway?" he asked, his voice seemed detached and had lost any sign of the warmth and interest it had exuded yesterday.

"That's a lion secret Tom," she said annoyingly.

"Oh really, and you're not going to tell me your secrets?" he questioned.

"Not my secret to tell," she replied. He leaned forward and smirked.

"So you'd tell me your own secrets?" he asked, eyes sparkling with the prospect.

"I have no secrets which are entirely my own," she said mysteriously, making Tom narrow his eyes in curiosity. "I think I'm going to go to the kitchens and get some toast."

"Allow me to accompany you," he responded rising from his seat. Hermione noticed how Slytherin boys usually offered their arm for her to take but he did not, another sign of Tom Riddle's social abnormality. They made polite conversation until they reached the Entrance Hall where they were interrupted by the eldest Black in the school.

"Excuse me Hermione, would you mind if I had a word?" Alphard asked, nodding courteously to Tom.

"Of course," Hermione said, caught slightly unawares.

"I was wondering what colour your dress was for the ball, I'd hate for us to clash," he said with a smile.

"I think I'll leave you two to discuss fashion by yourselves, good day Hermione," he said bored voice glaring daggers at Alphard.

"Goodbye then," Hermione said politely before turning back to Alphard. "My dress is green."

"Ah an excellent choice!" he exclaimed. "If you were wearing orange I would have a problem. Are you headed somewhere?"

"The kitchens," Hermione said.

"Allow me to accompany a beautiful lady?" he said flirtatiously, a seductive smirk gracing his handsome face as he offered up his arm. Hermione had to supress a smirk of her own, it was becoming very apparent who Sirius inherited his womanizing ways from.

"Why thank you Alphard, I can think of no better a companion," she replied equally flirtatiously as she took his arm.

"So will I be seeing you at Slughorn's this evening, Hermione dear?" he asked.

"Yes, Venres Weasley is accompanying me there," Hermione said.

"And here was me assuming it was Riddle," he said with a smirk.

"Do you not like him?" Hermione asked.

"Nobody does," Alphard said in a low voice, looking around suspiciously in case anyone was listening. "There are however people who are scared of him. Nott, Rosier, Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair, even my own family."

"Really I haven't noticed that?" Hermione said.

"Of course not, they are under strict orders to act as normal as possible around other people, you should see them in the common room. Cygnus and Orion excluded, they like me have made the choice to stay clear from his little club, the others all call him 'my lord' and bow to him as he walks past," he murmured in her ear.

"Why would they do that?" Hermione asked in mock confusion.

"They all look to him as some sort of leader, in the past few months, just before summer actually, they started a… group. They call themselves the Knights, Riddle is their leader and they do dark, dangerous things," he whispered.

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"I have no proof, I am not involved. But you can tell, sometimes they come back in the evening bleeding or cursed… all more afraid of Riddle than the last time. They treat him with indifference in classes on his own orders, can't have Dumbledore finding out I think," Alphard informed her.

"How terrible."

"You're late," Hermione chided, whacking Venres playfully round the head.

"And you look positively lovely Hermione," Venres replied with a cheerful grin. Hermione thanked him as she soothed down her navy blue dress with a close fitting bodice but ample length. "Let us go forth to Slughorn's party my lady!" He shouted, grabbing her by the hand and skipping to the portrait hole. "Do I look suitable for one of old Sluggies gatherings?" he asked pointing at his black trousers, white shirt and grey jumper.

"You look ravishing Venres, the boys won't be able to keep their hands off you," she teased.

"Wish I could say the same about you," he joked.

"Ah! You've already complimented me, you can't take it back now!" Hermione laughed.

When they arrived at the disused classroom on the first floor which Slughorn had commandeered for his party Hermione was astounded at how it was virtually identical to the one she had attended in her first, sixth year. Slughorn came bounding up to her wearing a plum smoking jacket and matching corduroy trousers, holding a large brandy in his hand.

"Miss Wembdon! What a pleasure it is to see you! Brought young Mr Weasley here as your date I see. Excellent, excellent. I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it," he said jollily.

"Thank you Professor, it looks absolutely love in here, I wouldn't miss it for the world unfortunately Venres here lost track of time," she said politely before adding aside to the professor. "He was doing his hair." Slughorn laughed in reply and Venres nudged her in the side with his elbow before they were whisked away to meet important guests.

There was a very awkward moment when Slughorn ushered Hermione, Tom, Cedric and Alphard from different corners of the room over to talk to one of the leading potioneers of the time and all of them refused to make eye contact with the others, preferring to stare at the floor.

"These are my best sixth year students," Slughorn said proudly, puffing out his chest and placing a hand on both Hermione and Tom's shoulders and shaking them, so that they bumped into one another. "Very bright these two, could become world renowned if they put their minds to it, very naturally gifted." Hermione blushed a little and Tom looked thoroughly uncomfortable, but she wasn't sure if it was due to her close proximity or the praise. Finally he stopped and turned his commendations onto Alphard and Cedric. "I have only taught Mr Amos here for a few weeks but he is very talented, Dumbledore's great nephew of course, I shouldn't be surprised. Last week he brewed a fully functional vanishing draught in an hour and a half! I certainly can't whip one up that quickly!" Hermione snuck away whilst Slughorn was raving over Alphard.

"Hey," she said to Venres who was pouring some punch.

"Hermione I don't know how to thank you," he said hugging her tightly.

"For what exactly?"

"I just met Jasper Nijinsky!" he said in an excited tone, like a child at Christmas.

"I have no idea who that is," Hermione said blankly, still being hugged.

"He used to be a beater for England," Venres enthused. "He is one of the greatest of all time! He has an eighty per cent hit rate that's twice anyone else at international level!"

"How fantastic," Hermione said, feigning interest.

"I told him I was a beater for the house team and he started to give me tips. Me! Tips from a Quidditch legend!" he almost sang as he lifted her from her feet.

"I'm glad you're happy!" Hermione laughed as he kissed her on the forehead.

"I do hate to break you two lovebirds up," Slughorn said coyly, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"No, no this isn't what- " Slughorn interrupted by chuckling heartily.

"You can't pull the wool over my eyes Miss Wembdon, but do come the both of you there are two aurors I would love you to meet," he said, eyes twinkling.

"Shall we go and have a nightcap Mione? The house elves make wonderful hot chocolate," Venres suggested as the party was starting to draw to a close. Hermione nodded and after saying goodbye to Slughorn they snuck down the Grand Staircase. The slipped silently through the creaking door to the Entrance Hall and hid behind a pillar to check the coast was clear.

"You know I won't have that kind of behaviour, Cygnus. Stop him," they heard Tom hiss.

"I don't understand…"

"Your brother," he almost growled.

"Please, you know what he is like; he means nothing toward her… he is a womanizer, a flirt. They will go to the ball together and it is unlikely they will engage in more than polite conversation from then on. He's an exhibitionist, he wanted to go to the ball with the beautiful new girl, to show off," Cygnus explained desperately.

"You know what I shall do to you if you are wrong Cygnus," Tom threatened, Cygnus nodded fearfully. "I think it's about time you started calling me, my lord."

"Like the… the Knights…?" Cygnus stammered.

"Consider this a summons," he spat.

Hermione and Venres looked wide eyed at one another, what had they just been eavesdropping on? Venres pointed toward them, and mouths 'let's go' Hermione shook her head frantically. But Venres nodded assuredly. He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the shadows of the pillar.

"Look Mione," he said loudly. "It looks like we're not the only ones headed to the kitchens." Tom and Cygnus span around, both of them eying the pair's hands suspiciously.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Tom spat at Venres, presumably for him being out of bed.

"Five points from Slytherin," Hermione countered, gesturing to Cygnus. Tom narrowed his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Tom asked.

"Kitchens," Venres said with a smile. "You two out on a date too?" Tom stiffened as he heard that phrase.

"You two are on a date?" he asked slowly.

"Of course we are," Venres replied. "First Slughorn's party, then a bite to eat… then maybe we'll find a broom cupboard." Hermione was shocked, completely at a loss to why he was saying those things.

"Go back to your dormitories," Tome whispered aggressively.

"We can do it just as well there," Venres said with a shrug. "See you guys in Transfiguration on Monday." With that he dragged Hermione by hand back through the creaky wooden door and up the grand staircase.

"Why on earth did you do that?" Hermione asked.

"Because now Riddle hates me," Venres said simply. Hermione halted, forcing Venres to stop at well.

"Why did you do it?" she asked again. Venres sighed and turned to face her, a serious look on his face.

"Because Riddle is dangerous and by the sounds of it he was going to make Cygnus pay for his brother taking you to the ball. By doing that I stopped him from hurting Cygnus, the Blacks are the last thing on his mind now he thinks I'm going to get you in a broom cupboard," Venres explained with a shrug.

"You mean to tell me that you just sacrificed yourself to stop some Slytherins from getting hurt?" Hermione asked in awe.

"When you put it like that I sound like an idiot," he laughed, but a smile lit up Hermione's face.

"You're a wonderful person Venres," she told him honestly. "Courageous to the point of idiocy, but wonderful." He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, just don't tell anyone about it," he said uncomfortably. "And I think you've got trouble on your hands now Riddle is threatening anyone you talk to." Hermione nodded mutely. The walked in companionable, contemplative silence back to the common room, stopping when they reached the stairs.

"Thank you for taking me to Slughorn's party tonight," Hermione said. "I had a surprisingly good time, which I would not have had if I had gone with anyone but you."

"I should be thanking you, I met Jasper Nijinsky greatest night of my life," Venres said with a grin. "I had fun with you as well of course… Well I'll see you tomorrow. Night Mione."

"Goodnight," Hermione replied. Venres leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on her cheek, Hermione smiled widely but Venres turned round quickly, looking embarrassed and ran up the boy's staircase.

Hermione was still smiling when she tip toed into her own dormitory.

**Chapter Nineteen- Dance and Deceive**

Tom and Hermione hadn't spoken in weeks.  
In Potions they were working on individual projects each lesson in preparation for their NEWTs and in other lessons they did not make contact with one another. Hermione never sat and read in the library and didn't go wandering about the castle alone without the help of the invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map.

Tom had noticed this behaviour; she was always with a group of her Gryffindor friends or deep in conversation with Cedric or the Weasleys. She didn't go anywhere without being accompanied by an obliging admirer. Though once or twice he had sworn she was there, whilst he was sitting in the library working or walking through one of the corridors on Prefect duty he could sworn he had smelt vanilla for just a second and somehow felt her presence. Of course he hadn't been close to her in so long he couldn't be certain she even smelt of vanilla usually, and she couldn't have been there anyway he reasoned he would have seen her. He had tried to discover that she was there, he had tried summoning invisibility devices and lift any spells in the immediate area… to no avail.

He didn't know whether to put it down to paranoia or his mind playing tricks on him, because he secretly wished she were there.

Of course half of the time, she was actually there and hiding under the invisibility cloak, one of the Hallows she was safe from any kind of summoning or detection charm. It amused her greatly to watch him become all wary and start casting spells as discreetly as possible, so a bystander didn't think him crazy.

All of these feelings came to a head on Halloween, it was a Friday afternoon and Hermione had walked past him on her way to Herbology. She had flicked her hair and the smell wafted over to him, he was sure it was what he had been smelling for weeks now. He had wanted to stop her there and then to question her about it. But that would have made him seem like some sort of stalker, so he refrained.

"How's everything going?" Hermione asked as she ran down into the courtyard which backed the transfiguration classrooms.

"Everything is on schedule," Cedric said with a grin. "Heat charms are up, house elves should be coming out with food any second; Flitwick is having afternoon tea with the band. It's all a-okay."

"You don't need my help then," Hermione said happily, clapping her hands together. "Excellent!"

"I know you think this is a stupid idea Hermione, let's be honest. We all think it's ridiculous. But Dippet ordered it for some strange reason," Cedric said. "He's a big fan of balls apparently."

"That man has issues," Hermione whispered in jest. "Well, while you stay here and be all Head Boy like and important I'm going to go and get ready. Have a nice time with Clarissa."

"Me and the Head Girl will have a fantastic time," Cedric replied, a little sarcastically. "Have fun with Uncle Alphy."

"Cedric!" she reprimanded in a hushed tone. "Not here, he is no one's uncle yet!" The she paused and looked off into the distance. "Oh Merlin you're right Cedric, what on earth would Sirius say."

"Well considering his dad asked you out… I think he'd take this substitute pretty well," Cedric laughed.

With eight o'clock fast approaching Hermione took one last look in the mirror, she was wearing a strapless dark, forest green chiffon dress with a silver beaded bodice which kissed the floor as it floated around her. Her curls were pinned up, off her neck and were laced around scattered, tiny pearls which glinted in the light. Strapping her wand into a thigh holster and insuring the ugly scar on her forearm was concealed with the usual magic she descended into the common room. Venres and Septimus were sat on the sofa, both clad in dark grey dress robes, white shirts and red ties. As she entered the room both boys turned to her and let out a low whistle.

"Hermione get back upstairs and put your dress on," Septimus joked.

"We can't have you going to the ball in your pyjamas now can we?" Venres teased. Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"And why are you two here and not with your dates?" Hermione asked.

"We're waiting for Maggie and then heading over to the Ravenclaw common room together," Septimus informed her.

"Turns out our dates are cousins," Venres said. "Who knew?"

"You do like to keep things in the family don't you," Hermione laughed. "Have a nice time."

"Save a dance for each of us!" Septimus called as she left the common room. Waiting outside was Alphard, leaning casually on the wall. His was wearing dress robes that were a green so dark they were almost black, a white shirt and a black bowtie.

"Hermione you look fantastic," he said unreservedly, kissing her on the cheek. "Everyone is going to be extremely jealous of me this evening."

"Thank you," Hermione said self-consciously. "You look very handsome too."

Tom was stood in one corner of the courtyard talking about the decorations with his female counter-part. He did not want to go to the ball with Eloisa Greengrass but he didn't have a choice, prefects always went with other prefects. He couldn't help but feel a little bit bitter that Hermione was going with the wrong prefect, a Slytherin at that. He was listening to Eloisa witter on unintelligently about the state of the décor when he saw her walk in. She was arm in arm with Alphard Black, smiling jubilantly and wearing a dress suitable for any Slytherin princess. Tom had never seen her with her hair up before; it extenuated her cheekbones and pretty face shape. He had to forcefully stop himself from staring by turning back to Eloisa. She didn't look as nice.

After the courtyard had filled and Dippet had kicked off the dancing with the flying teacher Tom gave in and went to dance with Eloisa, it would look strange if he didn't after all. He watched as Hermione and Alphard danced, eyes only for each other, both smiling. Tom couldn't help but think Hermione's beauty tonight dimmed everyone else in comparison. He smirked as he saw that her friend Cedric and his date the Head Girl were surrounded by hoards of girls every time they skipped a danced whilst their dates stood in a huddle and badmouthed the guy who getting all the attention. This smirk quickly faded when a slow dance came on and he watched Cedric take leave of his date and ask Hermione to dance. He stiffened as he watched how close they danced, how she leant her head on his chest and he whispered in her ear. They danced very differently when together- with their respective dates they laughed and weaved about the floor but together they stayed relatively still, rocking slowly on the spot until Cedric twirled her and pulled him closer again to his chest, they didn't laugh, they whispered and gazed into each other's eyes.

After watching her dance a foxtrot with one of the Weasleys he gave in to the thoughts that had been plaguing him all evening.

Hermione held her side as she tried to breathe through the laughter, her and Septimus had just danced a very energetic foxtrot whilst he had been cracking jokes in her ear. He bowed ostentatiously and held her hand above his head.

"Miss Wembdon you dance an exquisite foxtrot. It has been an honour," he said showily.

"Why thank you Mr Weasley, I must compliment you on your fox-trotting also," Hermione laughed as he kissed her hand.

Her smile quickly faded as Tom came up to her; he was wearing plain black dress robes with a white shirt and black tie. Hermione's heart panged as she recalled that Harry had owned robes exactly like that, right down to the cut of the collar. Although she had to admit they looked better on Tom.

"May I have this dance Hermione?" he asked, eyeing Septimus with disgust. Hermione nodded and took Tom's hand.

"You look nice," he said distantly as he placed his hand on her waist.

"Thank you," Hermione said softly, mentally cursing the band who had decided to play a slow song at the exact moment Tom Riddle had asked her to dance. She placed her hand gingerly on his shoulder and allowed herself to be pulled into position. She couldn't quite quell the feeling in her stomach at the contact of their hands, it wasn't nerves but it didn't feel far off. "You also look nice."

"Thank you," he said stiffly, not looking at her. "How's your date."

"Fine, he was dancing with some Hufflepuffs last time I checked," Hermione said uneasily.

"You know he's a serial womanizer don't you?"

"Of course I do," Hermione laughed, quickly stopping when Tom suddenly locked gaze with her, her breath hitched in her throat and she felt as though he was scorching her soul with his eyes in a way she had never experienced before.

"Then why are you here with him?" he demanded.

"He asked me to come with him and when a nice, handsome Slytherin seventh year asks you to go to a ball with him you don't say no," Hermione explained.

"So he wasn't your first choice?" Tom questioned.

"I hadn't desired to go with anyone else in particular, why wouldn't I want to attend with him?" Hermione asked. Tom looked away again and Hermione felt her breathing become a little less laboured. "That night in the Entrance Hall... I heard everything."

"Really?" Tom said, as aloof as ever.

"Why did you try and get Cygnus to spy on his own brother?" Hermione asked, her voice barely audible over the music.

"I'd hate for you to get attached to such a scoundrel," he replied.

"Why would you mind, Tom?" He hesitated before answering, looking once again into her eyes and making her stomach do flips and somersaults.

"We're on a first name basis," he replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Is that your way of distinguishing people you hate, and people you don't?" she asked.

"I don't 'not hate' you, I suppose I like you," Tom said, although his voice sounded bored Hermione could tell it was a mask.

"Are you saying we're friends Tom?" Hermione asked, not letting her disbelief shine through.

"I haven't said anything; would you say we're friends?" Hermione bit her lip and looked up at him accusingly.

"I would never call you 'my lord'," she said firmly. "All your closest acquaintances seem to and there is no way I would let you treat me like you treat them either."

"I wouldn't want to treat you like that," he said.

"In that I case I consider you a just-friend, my good friends wouldn't treat _anyone_ like that," Hermione said. Tom smirked and leaned in toward her.

"I'll take that," he whispered seductively, his lips grazing her earlobe. "But if I changed could I be considered a …good friend."

"I don't understand what you are trying to say," Hermione muttered to him, trying to get her head around his constantly changing personality. "That you'd give up dark magic for friendship?"

"I'd decrease it," he replied.

"And to stop all together?" Hermione asked.

"Well that would depend solely on the person, just how opposed to dark magic they were and just how _good_ a friend they were," he said suggestively.

"So if I was to wanting to be …_good_ friend and I were as opposed to dark magic as anyone could be. Would you give it up?"

"You haven't proven yourself worth it yet Hermione," he whispered, his smirk reflecting in his voice.

Hermione had no time to reply to this statement as the song had ended and he had released her from his hold. He bowed his head to her and allowed her to be whisked off by Venres into a saucy tango. For the rest of the evening Hermione tried to pull her thoughts away from Tom Riddle and his manipulative ways. He couldn't mean what he said about changing… could he? By the end of the evening she had lingered so long in this train of thought, pondering the hidden meanings behind the words, she had lost track of time and was dancing the last dance before she knew it.

"Would you like me to walk you to the common room Hermione?" Alphard asked gentlemanly.

"Thank you very much," she replied. As they walked through a secluded corridor just around the corner from Gryffindor tower Hermione stopped and turned to her date. "Alphard I need to talk to you about something important."

"What is it, Hermione?" he asked in concern.

"It's about your brother," Hermione admitted. "Do you remember when you told me about Riddle and his Knights."

"Yes," Alphard said.

"Well Venres and I were going to the kitchens after Slughorn's party and we overheard Riddle threatening Cygnus," she whispered. "He had 'summoned' him to the Knights. But he didn't look like he was too happy about it."

"Riddle, threatening my brother?" Alphard said in disbelief. "Why?"

"He…" Hermione took a deep breath and looked at her hands. "You can't tell anyone this, Venres and I may have got completely the wrong end of the stick but… he said it was because you were going to the ball with me, and he had to have someone stop it going… further than that."

"What?" Alphard asked in disgust.

"I know it's… I only told you because I thought you could help Cygnus, I don't want to see him get hurt," Hermione said.

"I will help him, my brother will join those Knights over my dead body," Alphard swore. "Thank you for telling me, Hermione. It would have been very easy for you to pretend you hadn't seen anything."

"I don't want anyone to be hurt, promise you'll be careful," Hermione said.

"Of course I will be," he said squeezing her shoulders. "Why do you look so sad?"

"I kind of feel like it's my fault, I'm so sorry," Hermione admitted. Alphard looked down at her with an uncharacteristically sad and pensive expression.

"It's not your fault at all, I don't blame you. I thank you for trying to help and make things right. It will all work out fine… you'll see," he said reassuringly.

"You're right," Hermione said with a small smile, he smiled back at her.

"I had a spectacular evening Hermione, even though I did have the most beautiful date at the dance and therefore have to share," he said with a grin. Hermione blushed and looked down at their feet. "Goodnight," he said as he lifted her chin and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

**Chapter Twenty- Battle Plans**

Sunday mornings were always a slovenly affair; those that managed to drag themselves out of bed for breakfast did so without vigour. The morning after a ball was obviously no exception to this rule, in fact only a handful of students had made it down to the meal. Cedric and Hermione tucked into their porridge with barely open eyes and ruffled hair, mirroring the state of each student in the room, except some of the Slytherins of course. On a normal morning the lethargic and weary atmosphere was broken only by the dull thud of cutlery and the occasional 'pass the sugar' today however was an exception.

Just as Hermione set down her spoon and took a long drink from her goblet the doors burst open and the heads of house came storming in, all engaged in a heated discussion.

"Surely you can't be serious, Albus they are but children!" Sprout questioned loudly, locks of her fly-away hair falling unkemptly from it's bun and her hat leaning precariously on the side of her head.

"I am very serious Pomona, they have more experience than half of the auror department I am giving them the choice," Dumbledore replied sombrely.

"What if anything should happen?" Slughorn asked, wringing his hands together in distress.

"They are more than capable I assure you, they will be a valuable asset," he said. "If you will excuse me I must talk to my nephew and goddaughter alone." The others nodded in defeat and allowed Dumbledore to advance to the Gryffindor table.

"Hermione, Cedric. A pocket of Grindelwald's followers have advanced on London, I have been asked to join the aurors into an ambush attack, they have requested your input I have told them all about you," he murmured.

"Say no more," Cedric interrupted.

"We'll go get our cloaks," Hermione said with a nod.

Hermione landed steadily onto the cold, hard pavement pulling her cloak around her to warm herself from the cold chill of the overcast November morning. A few seconds after her arrival Cedric and Dumbledore landed next to her.

"The auror base is just down here," Dumbledore informed them as they strode down the London cobbled street. It was one of those dark, dingy alleyways Hermione could remember being the setting for countless muggle television murder programs she had watched whilst home for the summer with her parents. The houses were all small and squashed together, many had broken glass and boarded up windows, empty bottles of beer littering the doorways. At a particularly run down looking house Dumbledore stopped and murmured something Hermione did not catch.

"After you," he said to them, gesturing for them to walk straight through the planks which barred the doorway. Cedric nodded and went first, presumably to stop Hermione from having to step into the unknown by herself, Hermione followed quickly, feeling a little uneasy but she was pleasantly surprised by what she found. The entrance to the base reminded her of a more savoury Grimmauld Place, there was a long corridor extending far into the property, it's one door at the very end opened onto a cavernous circular hall with a wide, gently sloped spiral staircase stretching along the walls. In the centre of the large room was a single table with a muggle telephone on. Dumbledore quickly ushered them up the carpeted stairs toward the first set of white double doors. Hermione noted the similarity in the décor to number ten Downing Street. She wondered which was modelled on which, though she couldn't imagine a muggle prime minster ever setting foot in here. Following Dumbledore they walked into a large rectangular room, it's walls were papered a deep red and an ornate fireplace big enough for Hagrid to play golf in, crackled green flames. Taking up most of the room was a large, elegant, oval shaped desk in a dark wood; high backed chairs were placed all around. About thirty heads looked up as the trio walked in. At the opposite end of the table to them, a broad, middle aged man with dark hair and a large scar across his left eyebrow stood up. It was obvious he was head of the auror office, he radiated power and authority.

"Ah Dumbledore, thank you for coming at such short notice, I hope your presence will not be too sorely missed up at the school," he said in deep, gruff voice.

"I am sure they can spare me for a day or two Auror Tawdry, it is of course my pleasure to be here," Dumbledore replied. Tawdry nodded in appreciation.

"These are the informants we discussed?" he asked.

"Indeed, may I introduce my nephew Cedric, and goddaughter Hermione," Dumbledore said, addressing the room. There was a general murmur of greeting.

"Excellent," Tawdry said. "In that case we may begin." They took the last three remaining seats, all spaced out from one another along the table.

"If I may say something," another man said, this one was young, he seemed to only be in his twenties and had sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes. Tawdry urged him to continue. "Why do we have two school children here as informants."

"They have done more fighting in the field than you have Robards, do not under estimate them. Dumbledore has told me much of their work on the continent, they are experts in the fight against Grindlewald," Tawdry replied sternly. Hermione supressed a smirk, she did not know about Grindelwald's fighting techniques from personal experience, more the books which would be written by her time.

No one questioned their admittance to this meeting again and Robards looked abashed throughout the briefing. Hermione found the whole thing fascinating and listened intently.

Apparently an informant in France had tipped off the British aurors that a selection of Grindelwald's army is hiding in London for the time being, ready to launch an attack on one of the French Ministry officals who will be on business in London from the next day. The French ministry had refused to send extra protection because they believed it to be an unnecessary expense, as Britain was still secure from Grindelwald. In order to keep this important individual from danger and to set an example about the way the British would defend themselves, the auror squad was planning an ambush. After Tawdry finished his introduction stating all of this he turned to Cedric.

"What can you tell us of Grindlewald's tactics?" he asked.

"I'll be honest, I'm not the strategist here, Hermione's the one to go to for that," Cedric said. Tawdry turned and addressed his question to her instead.

"There are many things which can be done to manipulate the situation so that we have the greatest chance of success. The main thing to do is put up wards to stop apparation, this is of course risky in our ambush situation because it means we will have to physically leave the building to abandon the mission. However it is necessary. Grindelwald's army is made up of single men only, they have been educated for years and years in order to fight to a high enough standard for his ranks. A lot of time and effort has gone into honing the skills of these fighters and they are under strict orders to get out if they see no chance of victory so that will live to fight another battle," Hermione told the table. "The best way to duel Grindlewald's followers is to lure them all together; they are so use to training individually that lots of spells and people all fighting in one space disorientates them a little, we take away their advantage by taking them out of their comfort zone." Hermione was heartened by the nods of realization from many aurors. One especially was looking quite impressed. She was the only witch sat round the table, she was sturdily built with shoulder length,dark red hair, large brown eyes and a dark tan.

The aurors all listened attentively to the rest of Hermione's information and advice, after hours of discussion Tawdry finally called the meeting to a close.

"Very well, now that everyone knows their orders, we leave at dusk. Everyone is to stay here on hand until then," he said as he dismissed his aurors. As Hermione ascended the sweeping staircase once again the red headed woman caught up with her.

"I was very impressed by the information you gave us today, it was very perceptive of you. I don't think Tawdry could say it in front of everyone else but without you I don't think we stood much of a chance." Hermione smiled self-consciously. "I'm Nancy Boardridge," she said extending her hand.

"Hermione Wembdon," she said shaking the older witch's hand.

"Dumbledore told us you've started at Hogwarts this year," she said conversationally as they continued to climb the stairs.

"Yes, I'm doing my NEWTs," Hermione replied.

"Well, whilst we wait for dusk, I want to hear all about them," Nancy directed, as she started rolling a cigarette. "We'll go right to the top floor, there is a lovely room up there. Which subjects are you taking?" Hermione listed all of them and the witch's jaw dropped in shock. "Blimey, that's a lot." She said as she opened the door into a lounge type area with overstuffed arm chairs and sofas and a small fire blazing merrily, she crossed the room and seated herself on the window seat of the large window on the opposite wall. Propping herself up against the frame with a pillow and opening the window before lighting her cigarette. "I took Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defence, Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures and I thought that was a heavy load," she said, blowing out smoke.

"You must have been good though, I didn't think the department took on many female aurors," Hermione commented as she perched on the other end of the seat. Nancy shrugged.

"They don't, but I trained as a healer first. I come in handy sometimes I suppose, there are only two female aurors in the department at the moment though, many retire by the time they hit thirty, go off to raise a family," she said thoughtfully, pulling her legs up to her chest.

"Why did you change careers?" Hermione asked. Nancy paused for a moment before answering and dragged on her cigarette whilst she thought.

"I guess… I like helping people but I got bored stuck in the hospital all day, this job's an adventure. I turn up to work every day and it's adrenaline filled and exciting. That and the auror department offered me a lot more money," she added with a grin. "What do you plan on doing when you leave school?"

"I have no idea anymore," Hermione said with a shrug.

"I think you'd make a brilliant auror strategist Hermione," Nancy said seriously.

"Thanks," Hermione said. "For once reading too much into things has been helpful." Nancy laughed heartily as she stubbed out the cigarette butt on the window frame and flicked it out.

"Will your friends not wonder where you've gone?" she asked.

"Probably," Hermione replied with a nod. "How dangerous do reckon it will be this evening?"

"I'm not going to lie to you," she said gravely. "This mission is very risky; we may well lose lives over it. But it's necessary, if we do nothing Grindelwald will think our country is undefended and that he can waltz right over and invade. It's going to be intense." Hermione smiled sadly and looked out across the view of the rooftops.

"And to think this time yesterday I was in the library worrying about how I was doing my hair for the ball," she mused.

"Don't worry; we'll all do this together. You're one of us now and we look after our own."


	3. Chapters 21 to 30

**Chapter Twenty One- Battlefield Flowers**

Complete darkness finally fell over London town.

Hermione and Nancy were lying flat on their stomachs watching an old building; it looked as though it could have once been a hospital or a factory. It was clinical, square and built in unattractive red brick.

The aurors had been waiting for almost an hour for the cover of darkness to properly descend, the wards the inhabitants had put in place had been expertly removed and new, discreet wards raised by the auror department.

"It's almost time," Nancy murmured. Hermione nodded. "Are you scared?"

"Two people I love very much are going into that building and may not come out in one piece. Of course I'm scared," she whispered croakily.

"You'd be an idiot not to be terrified, love" Nancy said with a smirk. "You're a very brave lady Hermione, I know you're godfather is very proud. You can see it in his eyes when he looks at you." Hermione blushed and looked at the ground. "And the kid, Cedric. The way he looks at you, it's obvious he adores you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione whispered.

"My boyfriend is a healer at St Mungos," Nancy told her in a hushed voice, her tone uncharacteristically tender. "Somebody once told me the same thing about the way he looks at me and I never believed it. But then one day something clicked and I realized what they meant. I think it was because I was looking the same way back at him." Nancy let out a quiet laugh. "Merlin I sound tragic, don't tell any of the aurors I told you that. They'd never take me seriously again." Hermione watched the witch as she laughed off what she had said, a small smile on her lips. Before she had a chance to reply a silver wisp of smoke came whizzing past their noses. "Let's go."

They rose from their lying positions and crept stealthily away from their vantage point toward the building. Nancy, Hermione and two other male aurors headed toward a small back door with peeling paint. The other two aurors were neatly dressed with combed hair and black, buttoned up robes. They looked toward Nancy as they approached the entrance she gave them one solemn nod and they silently unlocked the door and slipped through, Hermione followed them, with Nancy bringing up the rear.

They climbed the staircase like ghosts, their feet making no sound against the cold, hard metal. When they got to the top the two male aurors pressed their ears up against the door. On hearing no sound they slowly opened it and stepped into the bare room beyond. The only feature in this room was rows and rows of identical, immaculate bunk beds, like military quarters, they tip toed through them to the large double doors. On the other side they could hear the deep, aggressive voices of soldiers. Hermione raised her wand toward the doors, her arm shaking slightly as she tried to calm her nerves. The aurors stood firmly next to her.

"On three," Nancy murmured, examining her watch. "Three… two… one…"

"Bombarda!" Came shouts from around the building, the men in the room ducked as fragments of six doors were fired toward them with incredible force.

Unfortunately they recovered quickly.

They jumped up from their chairs and went straight from their conference into combat, as Hermione fired spells she saw the men become very disorientated for a second at not being able to disapparate as they would have liked. A burly man who was duelling Auror Tawdry shouted orders in a language Hermione didn't understand and the ferocity of their spells increased. Hermione ducked as a curse was sent straight toward her face, smashing into the wall behind her, leaving a gaping hole. Hermione dropped behind the remaining wall and carried on duelling two of the soliders from the relative safety it offered. Finally her opponents fell and Hermione scanned the room.

"Nancy!" she screamed as her combatant too hit the ground, the redhead turned just in time to see a powerful hex coming her way and crash to the floor to avoid it. She and Hermione both sent back curses which incapacitated the caster.

"Come on," Nancy yelled to Hermione, beckoning her down the staircase with her. "Some went this way." The two witches jumped down the same steps they had come up through and out into the abandoned car park, there they saw some of Grindelwald's men running toward the wooded area beyond the high metal fencing which also served as a marker for where the wards stopped. Again they shot spells at the men who dropped unconscious to the floor. "Thank you for what you did up there Hermione," Nancy said quickly as they ran back up the steps into the battle.

"Anytime," she replied as she sent a curse toward a particularly imposing man. She narrowly missed his next curse by launching herself sideways toward the floor, her cheek slitting open as an effect of the close proximity to the dark magic. She felt no pain from her landing or her face as she sent back a curse the soldier didn't expect. He grabbed his face in agony and Hermione took that moment to stun him and send him down to the floor. As he fell she saw Dumbledore fighting with three men at once and he seemed to be winning. But where was Cedric? She darted across to the other side of the building, weaving in between the fighters and dodging the spells which were being thrown about. Finally she found him duelling two older men, he had his back up against a door and was battling these two obviously talented men furiously. As Hermione sent a hex to the back of one of the men's head the other broke through Cedric's shield, sending him flying backward through the door and out of sight before turning on her.

After a few minutes of duelling Hermione stepped over the body and sped down to find Cedric at the bottom of the stairs, the bile rose in her stomach as she saw the grotesque angle of his leg underneath his body and the mangled mess of flesh which once made up an arm. She put her oqn arms under his shoulders, ignoring the blood which was seeping over her hands and pulled his unconscious body out of the doorway and into the cool night air. She dragged him across the ground toward the cover of the trees, where mediwizards were waiting. Thankfully one rushed out to meet her.

"He needs St Mungos," Hermione gasped breathlessly.

"I'll take him from here," the man said to her.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked anxiously.

"In a few days he'll have no visible proof of those wounds." Hermione muttered thanks and with one last look at her battered friend she ran back into the building. She met one of Grindelwald's men on the stairs and had to jump out of the way as his body suddenly went limp and came falling toward her. Nancy appeared at the top of the stairs and gave her a grin, Hermione followed her back up the stairs. There were now dozens of men unconscious on the floor; they had to step over them as they continued to duel.

Four hours later Hermione exhaustedly leaned her head against the cool window. They had just got a stretcher to take Dumbledore out of the building and take him to St Mungos, after three hours of nonstop fighting he had faltered and his shields were penetrated by an array of dark curses. He was going to be fine, but he needed to be treated by experienced healers. It had taken twenty of Grindelwald's men to take a fatigued Dumbledore down; Hermione had to admit that was a mean feat. She was the only one of the trio who had not been sent to St Mungos unconscious and she had no plan of going at all. Apart from being bruised from flinging herself against walls and floors to dodge curses, a few grazes and the cut on her cheek, she was fine.

Exhausted but fine.

Nancy limped over to her and lifted her chin.

"I won't fix that now," she said as she examined the facial wound. "You'll need a potion first to stop it from scarring."

"I'll go to Slughorn as soon as I get to the castle and then fix it myself," she sighed.

"You did very well," Nancy remarked. "We all did. No one on our side died."

"That's a first," Hermione cynically commented. "There were enough casualties though."

"They'll be patched up soon enough," she said as she lit a cigarette. "We have a lot to be thankful for. We wiped out all of this battalion, I doubt Grindelwald will be sending many more our way."

"You're right," Hermione agreed dully.

"Come on petal," Nancy instructed putting a hand around her shoulders. "It may be dawn in an hour or two, but the unscathed are going out for a drink whilst the others are getting sorted out. Our injuries don't need urgent attention, we'll join them." She nodded and allowed herself to be led from the building. "It's okay Hermione," Nancy whispered kindly on the way. "You didn't mean for him to die."

**Chapter Twenty Two- Welcome Back**

Tom had to admit that he was worried.

He was tapping his feet, drumming his fingers on the desk and he had almost added the wrong ingredients to his potion and ruined it three times already because his mind was wandering. That had never happened before and he didn't like that it had begun to.

Hermione had disappeared yesterday morning at breakfast and now it was half way through Potions the next day and she was nowhere to be seen. He had been eating his meal when the heads of houses had rushed in and Dumbledore had scurried over to her and Cedric, they can't have said two words before the two of them were departing the Great Hall. They had been seen leaving the grounds with Dumbledore a little later, each dressed in wizard's robes and thick travelling cloaks.

Tom made up his mind, at the end of the lesson he would ask Slughorn where Hermione was, she after all was meant to be his partner in this lesson and he had to do the potion alone because she was absent.

He turned his head as the door at the back of the class opened and Hermione walked in. He felt his stomach twist as he saw the cut of her face and the bruises all over her. Her sleeves were soaked in blood and her front was muddied. Slughorn rushed over to her at the back of the classroom, where they started a hushed conversation.

"Face the front class!" he ordered with unusual sternness. "Continue with your work." He then lowered his voice so Tom had to strain to here. "Miss Wembdon, goodness gracious are you alright?"

"I'm fine thank you Professor, I've been ordered bed rest and bruise salve that's all. I was wondering if you had any potion I could use for this cut, it's cursed," she said in a low voice.

"Yes of course my dear girl, come come," he said ushering Hermione over to his desk in front of Tom where he started rifling through the drawers. "Is Albus back?"

"No he's not, Madame Finchley has gone to St Mungo's to speak with the healers there in case there are any after-effects. He got hit by a dozen dark spells at once, he needs his rest."

"Deary me," Slughorn sighed sadly. "And Mr Amos?"

"Also in St Mungo's, broke his leg in six different places, mangled his arm and he's concussed," Hermione replied.

"Six times?" Slughorn said in shock his brow furrowing in concern.

"He got blasted backward down two flights of stairs," Hermione whispered.

"And what wounds have you sustained?" he asked.

"This cut," she said gesturing to her face. "But other than that just grazes and bruises, I've been ordered to take, calming, sleeping and concussion draughts, bruise salves and things like that. Nothing too major."

"How long did it go on for?" Slughorn asked.

"Five hours or so I suppose," Hermione estimated. "We had a lot of waiting around to do beforehand of course." Slughorn nodded gravely.

"You are spending the rest of the day in the infirmary I suppose?" he asked.

"No, no one is there anyway, I shall be more comfortable in my own bed in the dormitory," Hermione told him.

"Of course," Slughorn said. "I do hope you feel better Miss Wembdon."

"Thank you professor," she replied.

"Tom," Slughorn said in a loud voice. "You're farthest ahead, would you mind escorting Miss Wembdon to Gryffindor tower, we can't have her going alone in her condition."

"Of course Professor," he replied, rising from his seat.

"I really don't need-"

"I insist, you seem to be in a bad way, you could faint," Tom said politely. Hermione gave a forced smile and bowed her head to Slughorn before walking from the room, Tom behind her. As they walked up the stairs to the Entrance Hall Tom fell into step with her.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"Hello to you too," Hermione said in a bored voice.

"Don't mess around with me Hermione," he said firmly. "What happened?"

"A few curses," she replied.

"You can't come back here looking half dead and say 'a few curses' and expect to me to accept it," Tom insisted.

"Watch me," Hermione said indifferently. Tom exhaled angrily and tried to keep his emotions in check.

"Is this another one of those secrets of yours?" Tom asked.

"No, I imagine everyone will know by the time Dumbledore gets back," she replied.

"Then tell me!" he demanded. Hermione shot him a glare. "Please," he added.

"We went on a mission to London with the aurors, they needed me and Cedric to be strategists, we have more experience with Grindelwald's army than any aurors do because of our time on the continent," she said very quickly.

"You didn't go and fight his army?" Tom asked incredulously.

"Of course I did," Hermione said softly as she walked slowly up the grand staircase.

"You can't do that!" he exclaimed, running his hand through his usually impeccable hair.

"Why not?"

"Because… things like this happen," he said agitatedly, gesturing toward her. Hermione rolled her eyes and didn't look at him.

"I will get over it," she replied. "I have no broken bones, no serious conditions. I shall be fine after a sleep."

"Why did you go?" Tom asked her seriously, looking at her face to try and discern if her answer was the truth.

"Because I was needed and I saved innocent lives," Hermione said impassively.

"But you could have lost yours," Tom pointed out.

"I'm not so innocent," Hermione replied dryly as she lifted her sleeve to scratch her arm. They both winced as she touched the tender, purple skin beneath her cloak. "I got off a lot easier than most people."

"I doubt that," Tom said bitterly.

"Thirty four people are in St Mungo's, fifty seven on their way to Azkaban and two are dead, Tom. I got off lightly," Hermione said angrily. "Now if you'll excuse me I have had about four hours sleep in the past two days and I would like to go and take some potions and rest."

"I said I'd walk you to the tower," Tom said.

"If all you're going to do is irritate with me with your insensitive comments I would rather you didn't," Hermione said shortly.

"Oh I'm sorry for giving a shit," Tom spat. Hermione stopped walking and span around to face him.

"Did you just swear?" she asked quietly, a large smile lit up her tired and bloody face. "You… Tom Riddle swore."

"I guess you're rubbing off on me," he replied tersely. Hermione let out a laugh and clapped her hands together, her anger suddenly dissipating.

"Tom Riddle swore," she repeated euphorically.

"Did you hurt your head?" he asked. She giggled again and carried on walking up the stairs. Tom noticed she was swaying slightly. "Hermione are you okay?"

"Of course, I'm fine," Hermione replied, but as she spoke she wobbled more dangerously. Tom darted forward to her and grabbed her shoulders before she fell. "I'm fine," she said trying to shrug him off.

"No you're not," he contended. "How much blood have you lost?"

"A bit," Hermione quietly. "But I had stopped bleeding by the time I went to The Hippogriff-"

"You went to the pub this morning?" Tom asked in disbelief. Hermione didn't answer. "Merlin Hermione no wonder you're having trouble walking far."

"I'm fine," she repeated.

"Stop saying that, you are anything but fine," he ordered.

"Yes I am, what are you doing?" Hermione said as Tom put one arm under her shoulder blades and the other under knees. "Put me down!"

"I'm taking you to Gryffindor tower like I was told to." Hermione tried squirming and fighting to be freed from his grip but he did not falter, she did not have the energy to protest for more than a few minutes so instead contented herself with looking thoroughly aggravated.

"Password?" asked the Fat Lady when they got there as she surveyed the pair with a knowing grin.

"Valour," Hermione replied quickly.

"It changed yesterday," the portrait said.

"Dirigible Plum," Tom said impatiently, rolling his eyes. The portrait swung open and Tom carried Hermione through.

"How do you know our password," Hermione demanded irately. He didn't answer. When they got into the common room they were greeted by Weasley twins, who obviously had a free lesson. They seemed to be two of very few as the common room was empty except for them.

"What are you doing in here?" Septimus asked as he and his brother rushed over to the pair.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Venres asked.

"Yeah, yeah, just a little bruised," Hermione said, not wanting to make them worry. "Can you put me down please?" She then asked Tom. He consented and put her gently on her feet. She stayed steady for a second before she fell sideways back into him, he pressed her to him for a second before Venres and Septimus pulled her toward them, both putting an arm around her.

"We'll take her from here," Septimus said, glaring at Tom, who glared right back

"Come on Mione, we'll help you put the bruise salve on, give you your potions and take you up to bed," Venres said caringly, brushing the hair from her face.

**Chapter Twenty Three- Jealousy Vows**

Tom had just searched the library. She wasn't there. He had to see her, they had to talk. Maybe she was in Gryffindor tower; he would go get a first year to check for him. He was bound to find one between here and the Fat Lady.

However as he was walking along the sixth floor he saw her, she was looking at the ground as she walked down the corridor and hadn't seen him yet. He opened his mouth to call out her name.

"Granger!" The voice echoed round the walls, but it wasn't his and he certainly would not have called her that. He saw Cedric jog round the corner after her. He quickly ducked out of sight into one of the alcoves and cast a silent disillusionment charm on himself.

"Cedric!" he heard her yell in delight, he stepped out of the recess in time to see her fling her arms round the Gryffindor's shoulders and him raise her off her feet.

"Hello Granger, happy to see me?" he laughed.

"How are you? How's your leg? How's your arm?" she asked.

"As good as new," Cedric said with a smile. "A little birdie told me you were the one who took me to the mediwizards." Hermione shrugged and smiled up at him. "Thank you Granger, although you can't imagine my minute of panic when I realized I was in St Mungo's you weren't anywhere to be found."

"You're welcome; you were in a terrible state and I'm sorry if thought I had died. But I had a humiliating morning when I got back."

"Didn't you get back about five?" Cedric asked.

"No, Nancy and I went with some of the other aurors to the pub, I didn't get back until… ten-ish," she said.

"What happened?" he asked curiously.

"Well first Slughorn made Tom Riddle escort me back to the tower after I had gone to see him about a potion for my cheek wound, who then ended up carrying me up the stairs against my will. Possibly the most excruciatingly embarrassing experience of my life-"

"What about that time you-?" he started to ask.

"Don't say it- that never happened!" Hermione interrupted defiantly.

"Of course it didn't, carry on," Cedric said with a smirk.

"Then I got up to Gryffindor tower and Venres and Septimus insisted on taking care of me and I couldn't reach some places I had bruising so they had to do that for me," she mumbled.

"Don't tell me you took your top off in front of the twins!" Cedric laughed.

"It's not funny, Cedric! It was very painful and they were perfect gentlemen, they closed their eyes!" Hermione insisted.

"Of course, of course, I apologize," Cedric said the amusement still in his voice.

"Have you seen Albus?" she asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I spoke to him yes, he seems fine but he has to stay in St Mungos for a day or two more in case anything develops," he said reassuringly. "He told me to tell you how proud he is that you made it through until the end." Cedric then laughed. "Why is always me who ends up unconscious and you get out relatively unscathed?" Hermione laughed and squeezed him again, her hands clasping to the material over his broad shoulders. Suddenly Cedric's face fell and he looked at his friend intently. "Granger have you been crying?" he asked, concern laced in his tone.

Tom frowned and crept forward toward the two of them.

"Oh I… no it's nothing, it doesn't matter," she said uncomfortably.

"Granger," he said warningly. Tom ground his teeth, why were they still in an embrace, his hands resting on _his_ Hermione's waist. _His Hermione?_ Where did that come from?

"I had another dream," she whispered looking down.

"Another?" Cedric repeated. "You're the most accomplished occlumens I've ever met, why can't you block those out?" That was interesting news to Tom he was trying to learn legillimency at this very moment.

"I… I can't do it, not when I'm asleep," she stammered.

"What was it about?" he asked softly. Hermione bit her lip as it trembled. "Tell me about it."

"I was, I was in Godric's hollow with Harry," she said her voice wavering. "He was introducing me to his parents, James and Lily were alive. You remember that time you went to Bulgaria with Viktor, Oliver, Charlie and the twins?" He nodded solemnly. "Well we got a message that you'd all… that you'd all died and as we looked up from the message suddenly James and Lily were gone and two gravestones and… and…" a few silent tears were sliding down her face and she was becoming increasingly more distressed.

"Shh, shh," Cedric said soothingly, pressing her against him and holding her tight.

"I… I just miss them so much… and I'm worried they won't ever forgive me," Hermione whispered. Tom's heart dropped, she would never show that kind of emotion to him. He didn't even know she had that kind of emotion. What made her open up to Cedric?

"Hermione!" he said. Bending down toward her and putting a hand on either side of her face, caressing her cheeks and leaning his forehead on hers. "Look at me." She looked up toward him, calming her breathing but not able to stop the flow of tears. "You have to listen to me Mione, because I will tell you nothing but the truth. They all knew what they were getting into, they all accepted it as part of their duty to their family and friends, and to themselves. No one would ever blame you or hate you for doing what you had to do. They all loved you, so, so much and everyone would not begrudge you peace from the memories which haunt you. They knew you tried your best and you could do nothing more than that. They would be so proud of you, everyone single one of them would feel honoured to say that you were their friend. Whenever you dream about the tragedies which happened you have to remember the good times and how much love we all had for each other, even though it's gone. It happened and that's all that matters. At one point you were surrounded by people who adored you and respected you for being not only an incredible witch but a fantastic friend. I would bet my broomstick that if they were hear they would still be saying exactly the same things."

Hermione nodded, her tears not ceasing but a small smile on lips.

"Of course, of course you're right Ced," she said, nodding.

"I don't believe there were ever a better group of friends," Cedric said nostalgically and he wrapped his arms around her again. "I look back and laugh now at how Viktor, Fleur, Harry and I used to compete against each other." Hermione smiled wider at this.

"I can't believe Viktor and I were once a couple," she laughed.

"Oh to be fifteen and in love!" Cedric teased.

"You know what's weird? He was eighteen when we were together, no wonder Ron had something to say," she giggled. "Although you did snog Fleur in a broom cupboard and she was older than you."

"I resent that," Cedric said, feigning seriousness and raising his chin in indignation. "I did not 'snog' young ladies it's a very uncouth saying and she was a month and a half older than me, so I don't think it's really the same."

Hermione started to laugh but her smile soon faded.

"I really miss them," she said softly.

"I know, me too," Cedric said solemnly. "But we're doing what's best." Hermione buried her head into a Cedric's shoulder.

"I'm glad you're okay," she mumbled. "I don't know I would do if I lost you."

"And I'm glad you're okay," he replied, smoothing her hair. "Are you going to lessons today?"

"No, Dippet insisted I rest today as well," she sighed. "Are you?"

"No, good old Dippet," he said sardonically. "Do you fancy taking a walk around the lake?"

"It's raining," Hermione pointed out.

"Good point, we'll have the common room to ourselves anyway," Cedric said with a shrug.

"I have a bag of marshmallows in my trunk, we can toast them in front of the fire," Hermione suggested.

"That is an excellent idea," Cedric said, putting one arm round her.

Tom watched as they walked away, when they were finally out of sight he looked down as his hands. On seeing the red, raw crescent nail marks on his palms he made up his mind.

"Good afternoon," Tom said as he sat down at the same table Hermione was working on, in the library.

"Good afternoon," Hermione replied, not looking up from her essay.

"Have you enjoyed your first day back at lessons?" Tom asked politely, removing books from his bag.

"Yes thank you, they were quite interesting," she answered indifferently.

"History of Magic essay?" Tom asked, gesturing to the scroll of parchment she was writing on.

"Correct," she replied in a clipped tone. There was silence for a few minutes until Tom spoke again.

"I hate to be an inconvenience, but may I use your ink? I seem to have left mine in my dormitory," he asked civilly.

"Be my guest," she replied, sliding the ink across the desk so it rested between them. Half an hour passed in silence, the only notice they gave each other was when their hands brushed each other's over the ink pot.

"May I ask you a question?" Tom said eventually, looking up from his own, elegantly written essay.

"You may," Hermione said, eyes still fixed on her own parchment.

"Why do you get called Granger?" he asked. Hermione's head shot up and surveyed him. His expression was one of polite interest and fleeting curiosity.

"Have you ever heard of the city of Syracuse, Tom?" she asked. He shook his head. "There are a few, but the one I am talking about is an American city quite close to New York. The first…" Hermione sighed and bit her lip, as though deliberating in her head what to say. "Tom you must have grasped by now that I was part of a resistance, correct?" she questioned in a hushed voice, he nodded. "The first mission I went on without… 'adult supervision' was to this city, Syracuse. Cedric and I went with our friend Cormac, which was a hideous mistake we should have gone alone. I digress. Anyway as part of this assignment we had to visit one of the cemeteries in the city and whilst we were there we found the grave of Amos P Granger. I won't go into the details of why were there or what we did for obvious reasons, but Amos Phelps Granger was a congressman and although he had nothing to do with why we were there his name stuck in our heads. Amos is Cedric's last name, Phelps was Cormac's middle name and so they decided that Granger would become my nickname."

"Oh," Tom said.

"I'm sorry to disappoint it's not a very interesting story," Hermione said. "But I don't tell many people it."

"On the contrary it was intriguing," Tom corrected.

"Go on then Tom, I shared my nickname with you, what do the Slytherins call you?" Hermione asked, a knowing smirk on her face.

"They don't call me anything," he said quickly. Hermione let out a short, melodious laugh.

"I already know Tom," she told him. "Go, on why?" Tom exhaled in irritation, how did she know what they called him? She was friends with Rosier and the Blacks…

"It's an anagram of my name," he said tersely.

"In that case your middle name is… no that doesn't work… unless you put an I am at the front… in which case making your middle name… Marvolo?" Hermione asked.

"Correct," Tom said through gritted teeth.

"I think can think of a lot better anagrams for Tom Marvolo Riddle than _that," _she said condescendingly. Tom narrowed his eyes.

"Like what exactly?" he asked.

"For example… Volt Mermaid Drool, Moderator Doll Vim, Rammed Ovoid Troll… actually I like that one, I think I'll get the Gryffindors starting that up as your nickname," Hermione contemplated.

"You wouldn't dare," Tom spat.

"You're right, when anagrams of Hermione Wembdon are Inbred Home Women and Binned Whore Memo, I think it would be unwise to spread Rammed Ovoid Troll," she joked. Tom smiled involuntarily.

"Did you think up all those on the spot?" he asked.

"No, I've been up all night for weeks coming with anagrams for both our names," she said sarcastically. "It's a great shame you're not a fan of Rammed Ovoid Troll, oh well, I think it will just have to become an affectionate nickname from me."

"Then how exactly am I supposed to retaliate? I cannot call you either of the anagrams you mentioned," he asked, eyes sparkling as he looked at her intensely. He was hoping for this to have some kind of effect on Hermione, but she would not back down.

"Do you not say inbred or whore, Tom?" she teased.

"You are very much the refined lady Hermione, has anyone ever told you that?" Tom asked with a smirk.

"As a matter of fact they have not," Hermione replied. "I can't say I'm that concerned." Tom smiled and shook his head.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked.

"It's raining."

"So?" Hermione looked at him for a minute, the ghost of his smile was still on is features and his eyes seemed to shine more than she had ever seen before.

"Okay."

_(Amos Phelps Granger was a real person, an American congressman who is buried in a cemetery in Syracuse. As I am English I really have no idea what a congressman is, even.- In my defence we don't have them here-. Nor do I know anything about him other than what is on his Wikipedia page. Therefore the facts about this individual may be false, but I hope they are correct; I wouldn't want to lie about a real person. )_

**Chapter Twenty four- Delicate Discussions**

The day was overcast and dull, rain falling rhythmically over the landscape and obscuring the distant mountains in its haze. The cold droplets disturbing the lake's usually glassy surface and running of the vegetation around it; the noise of its drumming filling the damp air.

"Tell me something?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

"Tell me something," Tom repeated. "Anything, I see you every day and yet you're this… enigma… no one seems to know quite what to make of you."

"So you want to hear something you don't know about me?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Tom said simply.

"Okay..." Hermione pondered what to tell him as they walked slowly along the shore of the lake. "This might take a while."

"I've got a while," Tom said, neither of them making eye contact.

"Okay, I'm an only child…" Hermione said unsurely, still taking in the scenery around her.

"What are your parents' names?" Tom asked.

"They _were _called Jeanne and Richard," Hermione said softly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Tom replied.

"Its fine," Hermione said honestly. "What about you?"

"I'm also an only child," he replied. "My mother is deceased too, I never knew my father." Hermione contained her shock at him telling her this, she was sure he would brush of the question. "I grew up in a muggle orphanage, I didn't even know I was a wizard until Dumbledore came to me when I was eleven."

"I didn't know I was a witch until Dumbledore told me either," Hermione said. "I was ten, two days before my birthday."

"Didn't you know about magic before? Did your parents die when you were young?" he asked.

"No, they were muggles, dentists in fact," Hermione admitted, looking him sideways, gauging his reaction. His face was emotionless, looking off into the distance.

"You do have nice teeth," he said awkwardly. "I assumed you were a pureblood, what with Dumbledore being your godfather. My father is a muggle too." Tom could not see the way Hermione's thoughts were flying about her mind.

"I don't usually broadcast the fact I'm a muggleborn," she said.

"Me neither, I prefer people to assume that I am a pureblood, it makes things a lot easier. But you can't help who your family are." Suddenly it hit her. Tom Riddle didn't care about whether people were purebloods or not, Voldemort had played on the subtle feelings of the most influential wizards of the time and exaggerated those views. Brought them out of the shadows and convinced and manipulated them until they thought they had been there all along and it was their right as purebloods to purge the world of those of 'lesser birth' under his command suddenly it all made sense. All the discrimination and hate gave him power, what he craved the most. For Hermione this kind of thought was similar to what finally grasping a subject at school was for others, after that one point of realization you can never comprehend how you could have been so blind as to not have understood it before.

"I never fit in with the muggle children at school," Hermione commented, her blasé tone worlds apart from the frenzied epiphany which was happening within her. "I was always too different, too intelligent. They didn't understand me."

"Me neither, I used magic on them without knowing what I was doing," Tom said.

"I knew I was special, different from them in some way, but I had no idea how… back when magic was just in story books," Hermione said sentimentally. Tom now turned toward her, locking gazes.

"It's like you took the words right out of my mouth," he said. "I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone what I just told you."

"Likewise," she replied. "You're secret is safe with me." He nodded curtly.

"I won't tell anyone," he said in a business-like manner, there was a long pause and Hermione was beginning to think that their conversation was over for the day. "I'm glad you're here." Hermione raised her eyebrows, an invitation for him to continue. "I've never told anyone that before and… I suppose it's kind of nice to have someone to …talk to." Hermione smiled at him.

"You've been missing out on this whole friendship thing," Hermione told him serenely. He didn't reply. "I know what it is like to not have any friends, even when I first came into the wizarding world I didn't have any friends, they all thought I was stuck up know it all." She laughed lightly at the memory, thinking about how ridiculous her and her future friends had been when they were young. "Of course _I am_, but they learnt to accept that," she joked, before turning serious once again. "There is no better feeling than being with people who love you, and you love in return."

"I highly doubt it's the _best_ feeling in the world," he replied sceptically.

"I disagree," Hermione said firmly. "You have people who like you, why don't you make the effort to like them back?"

"Such as who exactly?" he asked.

"All the Slytherin girls are crazy for you," Hermione said, supressing a smirk.

"Please," he said, rolling his eyes.

"They certainly…enjoy your company," Hermione said, trying very hard not to laugh.

"Unfortunately I do not enjoy theirs," Tom replied impassively. Hermione couldn't stop herself this time; her laughter rang out, echoing around them.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," Hermione said in mirth. Tom stopped walking and looked at her, raising an elegant eyebrow as he watched her. Unfortunately this made her laugh more and she had to clutch her stomach as she watched the muscle in his cheek work. Hermione couldn't help but think about how much he would hate her for laughing at him, so she was very surprised when his stony expression suddenly broke out into a grin. Hermione took a deep breath and finally stopped laughing. He straightened his face and they locked gaze once again. "You look handsome when you smile."

Tom frowned in disgust and straightened his robes.

"Are you trying to tell me I don't look handsome all the time?" he asked indignantly. Hermione smiled and shook her head; she had almost believed him then. "Come on Casanova, I'm starving. Let's go to dinner."

"Okay," he said, that smile lighting up his attractive features once again as he allowed himself to be pulled by the arm toward the castle. "You smell of vanilla."

"Intelligent observation," Hermione teased. "The perfume was a Christmas present." Tom's eyes narrowed a little… was his own mind playing tricks on him? Because he had definitely smelt vanilla before and he was 99% sure no one had been there.

"Urg, my hem is filthy," Hermione complained, inspecting her muddied cloak as they returned to the castle.

"Maybe if you weren't so short it wouldn't drag in the mud," Tom taunted.

"Actually I am rather tall compared to other females of my age," Hermione replied, ignoring the fact he was a good head taller than her and she had to look up to speak to him. He just smirked and they continued walking.

"You never told me your middle name," Tom pointed out.

"Again, very intelligent observation Tom," Hermione said. Tom chose to ignore her comment.

"You know mine, it's only fair I know yours," he said.

"It's Jean," Hermione said. "It was meant to be after my mother but they spelt it wrong at the hospital, missing off the extra n-e at the end, which is how she spelt hers."

"It seems to be a pretty superficial n-e anyway," Tom said nonchalantly. "Hermione Jean… pretty."

"Thank you," Hermione said uncertainly.

After another long pause Tom spoke again; "You know how we're friends?"

"Don't make me regret that decision," Hermione said jovially.

"Come to Hogsmeade with me at the weekend," he suggested. Hermione narrowed her eyes and titled her head.

"Why?" She asked.

"Because I want to take you to Hogsmeade," Tom said.

"Why?" she asked again.

"Are you trying to make this difficult?" he questioned as they walked up the steps. He held open the heavy door for her and let her pass through into the Entrance Hall. "Just go with me," he murmured as they walked through the groups of people milling around.

"Hmm… maybe," Hermione said, pursing her lips to stop her laughing.

"Hermione," he groaned.

"I'll think about it," she teased.

"So meet me in the Entrance Hall at eleven?" He asked as he opened the door into the Great Hall for her.

"I'll see if I _feel_ like it, I have to go to Durmstrang that evening," she said with a grin before walking off to the Gryffindor table to sit with her friends. She didn't see Tom do a very uncharacteristic eye roll as he watched her walk away.

"Evening," she said happily as she squeezed herself between Venres and Cedric and helped herself to shepherd's pie. The Weasleys both grunted at her through mouthfuls of food and Hermione sighed, some things never change.

"Alphard Black is looking for you Mione," Robert said whilst pouring himself some pumpkin juice.

"Thanks, I'll find him after dinner," Hermione said.

Sure enough as she walked back to the common room with Cedric she passed Alphard .

"Go on without me, I have to speak with Alphard," she whispered to him. He nodded and left her in the corridor, waiting for Alphard to finish his conversation with a fellow Slytherin.

"Good evening Hermione," Alphard said with a sad smile.

"Hello, Robert said you were looking for me," she said. He nodded and looked around.

"In here," he said leading her into an empty classroom. "You remember what you said about my brother?" Hermione nodded. "It was all true, but I made a deal with Riddle to get him out of there."

"You didn't," Hermione said in shock, assuming the worst.

"It's nothing like that, I haven't sold my soul to the devil or anything," Alphard said calmly. "I promised to not be romantically involved with you in any way including dates, dances or physical contact in return for no one of Black blood to be admitted into his… clutches, whether they want to or not. We vowed on it."

Hermione's jaw dropped. Regulus Black could no longer join the death eaters… Bellatrix could no longer join the death eaters, she was Bellatrix _Black_ after all. Alphard took Hermione's shock the wrong way and assumed she was angry at him. "I'm sorry Hermione, I like you a lot but I had to do what's right for my family!" Hermione shook her head, bringing herself of her reverie.

"No, no I'm not upset Alphard, I'm stunned. I can't believe it… I'm happy for you, of course I'm happy that your family are going to be safe from him… but your family are extremely affluent. I'm surprised he was willing to give that kind of connection up," she explained.

"I guess he really… I want to say like but I feel that would be a little foolish. I guess he is really interested in you," he said with a shrug. Hermione bit her lip as she saw the concern in his eyes. "Hermione just because I did, what I did to help my family does not mean that I want you to get wrapped up in the mess that surrounds him. My family is now safe from him, but you can be too. I'd hate to see you hurt."

"Thank you Alphard," Hermione said simply. "I have a meeting with Dumbledore in a few minutes so I have to cut this short. But I really am happy that you got Cygnus out of there and thank you for telling me everything."

"You're welcome Hermione and me too," Alphard said. "I would hug you to say goodbye, but I'm not sure if that would be considered too… romantically involved."

"I won't be too offended then," she laughed.

"Come in!" Hermione opened the door forcefully and marched into Dumbledore's office. "Ah Hermione dear… cup of tea?"

"No thank you Albus, now is not the time for tea," she responded as she paced back and forth in front of his desk.

"Hermione… sit down," Dumbledore said calmly, eying her curiously. "What has happened?" Hermione obeyed and dropped herself into the chair nearest her.

"I… I'm not too sure," she said, drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair. "I think… I think I just stopped Regulus and Bellatrix joining the Death Eaters." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in interest and reached into one of his drawers, extracting a brown paper back and popping a sherbet lemon into his mouth.

"Please continue," he said. As Hermione retold the events which had led to Alphard telling her this, his expression turned slowly more pleased. "This is excellent news," Albus said.

"You think so?" Hermione asked. "You don't think we've changed too much of the future?"

"Hermione…" Dumbledore said sadly. "We have come here for a reason, to change the future completely. We shall make it a better place, you have saved Regulus and Bellatrix's lives, they both died in his service. You have saved Neville's parents, Sirius, Nymphadora, Ron, countless people were killed by Bellatrix Black under Voldemort's command, and if nothing else goes to plan you have saved those lives. You should be proud of yourself!" Hermione smiled weakly.

"Sirius, Tonks and Ron won't be murdered by her," Hermione mused, faith in their mission kindling inside of her. "They'll be safe."

"His last, best lieutenant shall never be. Our coming here is worth it all ready," Dumbledore said clapping his hands together. "Now it is almost curfew and I am sure Cedric will be appreciative of hearing your story."

**Chapter Twenty Five- Hogsmeade**

"So I heard that Olive Hornby asked Tom Riddle to go to Hogsmeade with her, but he said no because he going with someone else."

"Who? Tom Riddle doesn't go to Hogsmeade with anyone!"

"I know I know, but listen! Outside Charms she was taking her anger out on that girl Myrtle and making fun of her glasses-"

"I hate it when people do that! She's not that bad once you get to know her!"

"Don't interrupt! Anyway, Cedric Amos saw."

"Oh what happened?"

"He took ten points from Slytherin, and then- listen to this, he asked Myrtle to go to Hogsmeade with _him_, apparently she's ecstatic!"

"Oh that was so sweet of him! Myrtle is always getting bullied. He's such a gentleman, what a nice thing to do!"

"I know! Isn't he lovely! So now he's going to Hogsmeade with Myrtle, which is a pity I was planning on asking him myself, but whatever… and Tom Riddle is going to Hogsmeade with an unknown individual."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she listened to her roommates gossip and squeal over how fantastic Cedric was for building the confidence of Myrtle. Hermione clapped her book shut and rose from her bed as the door opened again and Yohanna ran in. She wished Maggie were there, she seemed the only sane one in her dormitory.

"You will never guess what I just heard!" the blonde shrieked happily as she launched herself onto the bed her two pyjama-clad fiends were occupying, sending various copies of Witch Weekly flying to the floor. Hermione sighed and started brushing her teeth in the bathroom adjoining their room.

"What is it?" Michaela asked frantically.

"I was walking back from detention with Flitwick and I overheard two Slytherins, Rosier and Nott talking about who Tom Riddle was going to Hogsmeade with," she explained dramatically. "You'll never guess who it."

"Tell us!" Michaela almost yelled. Yohanna smiled widely and turned her head toward the open bathroom room door.

"What?" Hermione asked her mouth full of toothpaste.

"You are not!" Janie squealed. "Hermione you are not going to Hogsmeade with Tom Riddle!"

"She is!" Yohanna shouted, bouncing up and down on the mattress. "And _he_ asked _her_!" The three girls jumped up from the bed and bounded over to Hermione, clutching at her nightdress.

"Hermione tell us all about it!" Janie pleaded.

"Err s nufin t cey!"

"What sorry?" Hermione bent over the sink and spat out the toothpaste.

"There is nothing to say," she repeated, as she washed her face and tried to shake the girls off her.

"Hermione don't give us that!" Yohanna chided. She rolled her eyes and pushed her way out of the bathroom, braiding her hair over her shoulder as she went.

"I really have nothing to say about it," she assured them as she crossed the room to her bed and sat leant against the headboard.

"Do you love him?" Michaela asked, clutching her heart and skipping theatrically across the room.

"Does he love you?" Janie asked seriously as her and Yohanna flopped on the end of her bed, flicking their ankles in the air and batting their eyelashes.

"No," Hermione said firmly.

"How do you do it Hermione?" Michaela asked, suddenly her gossiping and teasing demeanour shifted and she was sat on the end of her bed, looking pleadingly and anxiously at her.

"How do I do what?" Hermione asked.

"All the guys love you," Michaela pointed out. "Half the Slytherins, all the guys in Gryffindor, Tom Riddle who hates everyone and everything, the lovely Cedric. That's two best looking guys in Hogwarts right there!" Hermione sighed and looked at them. She preferred it when they were being bitchy rather than this looking at her with all this longing and self-doubt.

"Most guys like me because I'm new, a novelty which they know nothing about," Hermione said. "Give it a little while and I will be just another girl to them. I'm like the shiny new toy but eventually my new paint will get scratched, I will be left in the sandbox and they will go back to the toys that have stood by them since they started noticing and liking toys," she said with a warm, gentle smile. "The Weasleys, the Slytherins and all the other boys in our year like me because I act normally around them, I don't act like they are 'boys' I act like they're people and that's new and refreshing for them. If you always treat them like prospective husband material they will think you're just giggly, high maintenance girls. Tom likes me as a friend," she put emphasis on that part. "Because I did something nice for him despite the fact I didn't know him and because I didn't fawn over him because he's handsome. Cedric and I are best friends, we've been through so much and I trust that he likes me for who I actually am. That's what you have to find, someone who likes your for who you are and for that to happen you have to let them get to know the real you, not some façade you put up." The girls looked pensive but positive. "Now I hate to break this little support group but I'm going to sleep, get off my bed before I hex you into the hospital wing," she said in false sweetness, now their confidence crisis was over she was not going to sit and chat with them. They sighed and got up, knowing she would make good on her word, but still smiling a little.

"Goodnight Hermione," Michaela said nicely, Hermione was surprised at her sudden gentleness. "You have to look well rested for Tom tomorrow," she added with an over the top wink.

"Good night!" she said in irritation, the hangings magically snapping shut around her.

"I had bushy hair when I was younger," Hermione said.

"False," Tom guessed.

"No, true!" Hermione said with a smile. "I'm so glad I grew out of it."

"I'm a natural redhead," Tom said with an arrogant smirk.

"You're a liar," Hermione laughed.

"Okay, that's not true," he agreed.

"I once rode a broomstick into a lake and almost drowned, only to be saved by seven Quidditch playing boys who teased me about it for the next few years. That is why I do not ride broomsticks," Hermione said.

"True?"

"Correct," Hermione said. "I came out covered in pond weed and looked like some sort of sea monster." Tom chuckled slightly.

"I can imagine," he said as they walked along the path to Hogsmeade. "I've never gone with a girl to Hogsmeade before."

"I know that one's true, all the girls in my dorm were discussing into the small hours, much to mine and Maggie's annoyance," Hermione told him.

"What can I say?" he asked, arrogantly readjusting his collar just to make Hermione smile. It didn't disappoint and her laughter rang around them. He smiled himself as he watched her. "Do they often talk about me?"

"It's always… you, Cedric, Alphard, one of the Weasleys or Robert, often all at once. They have a chart of which boys are most attractive and they have little pins which get switched around," Hermione laughed. "It's hilarious for me to watch… until they ask my opinion and I have to hex them."

"You hex your dorm mates?" Tom asked, obviously impressed.

"Only if they ask me question like… which of the sixth year boys has the nicest bottom, they are asking for their tongues to be stuck their knees," she said with a smirk.

"So after you answer with my name, you force them to lick their own knees?" Tom asked innocently. Hermione laughed loudly again.

"You're very sure of yourself, aren't you?" she asked.

"I don't hear a denial," he said with a suggestive raise of an eyebrow. Hermione shook her head exasperatedly.

"I give up with you," Hermione sighed.

"I'm taking that as an agreement," he replied with a smirk.

"Are you crazy? How can you say that when _Goyle_ is around?" she asked incredulously. "History of magic is almost a sauna with that boy in there." She pretended to swoon and fanned her face with her hand.

"You're right, how could I forget about Goyle?" Tom replied. "Six feet of pure troll."

"I wouldn't say _pure_ troll…" Hermione said. "Half and half more like. I'd say his mother's definitely a rectangular troll though. " Tom let out a laugh as they entered the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade.

"Where do you want to go first?" he asked.

"If I said the bookshop would you think I was a loser?" Hermione asked coyly. Tom gave her the widest smile she'd ever seen on him, her stomach flipped. She immediately asked herself if she was hungry or if she should go to the hospital wing.

"I knew there was reason I came here with you," he said before they departed for Tomes and Scrolls.

After spending an hour in the cramped little bookshop they stepped out into the street again, it had been quite dark in the shop and they had to blink and adjust their eyes to the outside light, despite it being an overcast day.

"Where shall we go next?" Hermione asked, placing the two small books she purchased into her bag.

"Do you mind if we go to Scrivenshaft's? I broke my good quill," he asked, suddenly quite distant, leading Hermione to wonder whether he had a medically diagnosable conditions which resulted in his mood swings. Severe PMS maybe?

After he had bought his new quill he seemed perfectly happy again and suggested they go and get a drink. He led Hermione to a part of the village she had never explored before.

"Where exactly are we going?" she asked as they walked leisurely along a narrow lane.

"A tea shop," he informed her. A minute or two later they walked into a small café to the tinkling of a bell. The shop was illuminated by a large window on the far wall, opposite the door showing a valley of rugged wilderness which Hogsmeade was surrounded by. Tom and Hermione both hung their coats on the ornate stand by the door and headed over to a small sofa by the window.

"Hello dears," an old, dumpy woman greeted as they sat down. "What can I get you both?" They both ordered cups of tea and Hermione sat gazing out of the window.

"It's funny isn't it, how untouched that landscape is, muggles can't go there, most wizards probably never do, anything could be down there and chances are no one would ever find it," Hermione pondered.

"I suppose you're right," Tom said. "Although the same could be said about a lot of places, I bet the Forbidden Forest has more secrets than anyone lets on." Hermione smirked and cast him a sideways glance. "You haven't," he said. She shrugged but remained silent. "What haven't you done?" Hermione laughed slightly and rearranged her skirt around her. She was saved from having to answer by a tray of tea flying over to their side of the room and placing itself on the coffee table in front of them. "When is it you go to Durmstrang?" he asked as he sipped his hot tea.

"Six o'clock, this evening," Hermione said. "I have to go by floo."

"This evening," he repeated a frown on his face. "I didn't know you were leaving so soon."

"I'll be back on Saturday, in time for the Quidditch match. I'm only going for a week," she said brightly.

"What will you be doing there?" he asked.

"Well, the equivalent of our sixth year will be doing their Higher Certificate in Dark Magic, they have to take the General Certificate in third year and then they can choose to take the higher, they have so many lessons a week until this time. Then the week before they take the exam they have a full timetable of revision for the exam, which is why they do it in sixth year not seventh, because otherwise they would interfere with NEWTs. So that is what I shall be doing, joining in with said revision and taking the exam on the Friday," she explained.

"But they have had years of practice," he said.

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Hermione said calmly, she then sighed. "I don't really want to go to be honest."

"It will be an interesting experience, you will learn a lot of new spells," he replied.

"Truthfully, I doubt they will teach me anything new," Hermione said unhappily. "I don't really like being around dark magic, I've been around it so much that I can feel it on my skin when someone is casting it, it feels sticky and unclean."

"I've read about people who can physically feel magic," Tom said in interest. "It's very rare." Hermione nodded.

"I can feel when certain people do magic or when anybody performs certain types of magic," Hermione said.

"Who?" Tom asked.

"I can always feel Cedric's magic, I used to be able to feel my friends' sometimes."

"Used to?" he asked. Hermione nodded sadly.

"Yes, I lost them, most of them… they died," Hermione said, breathing deeply as she spoke.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Tom said quickly.

"Its fine," Hermione said breezily, taking a long, calming sip from her cup. "So how do you know about this place?"

"I was just walking around Hogsmeade the first time I came, third year, these girls were following me and I didn't really want to curse them in a crowed village so I ducked out of the high street and just wandered around until I found this place," he said, eager to change the subject and remove that little glimmer of sadness in of her eyes.

"It seems like a pretty quiet place," Hermione remarked.

"Always is," Tom said with a nod. "Each time I've been here there was only one old witch. I haven't shared this place with anyone at school, it would become quite useless. "

"I feel honoured that I'm here then," she said with a smile.

"It's gone four, shall we go?" Tom asked, Hermione nodded and rose from her seat. Smiling at the cup covered table in front of her. It had been a very enjoyable afternoon, talking and laughing about nothing in particular. She would have never thought she would have been this comfortable around Tom Riddle, or that she would ever see him laugh.

"Thank you very much," Hermione said to the witch who owned the tea shop.

"It was lovely to see you dears, I do hope you two lovebirds come again," she said before bustling back into the kitchen with a pile of trays. Hermione cast a look at Tom to see his reaction to that, but he was raising an eyebrow at her and trying to supress a smirk. Hermione laughed and shook her head, before slipping on her coat and wrapping her thick woollen scarf around her neck. As they left the shop Tom lifted his right hand up, palm to the sky and looking almost daringly at her. Hermione narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin as they stared each other down. Neither of them moved.

After a minute of deadlock one of them finally caved.

With his left hand Tom grabbed Hermione's and placed it in his right, a smirk still on his face. Hermione's eyes narrowed further and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Must you always do that eyebrow thing at me?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"You always roll your eyes! You're just jealous because you can't do it," he said smugly, entwining their fingers.

"Jealous of you?" she scoffed as they walked together down the cobbled lane. "Who says I can't raise one eyebrow independently of the other?"

"Go on then," he challenged. Very slowly and very deliberately she lifted one eyebrow. He laughed. "I'm proven wrong."

"Half wrong," Hermione corrected, with a small smile. "I can't raise the other one

**Chapter Twenty Six- Unexpected Goodbyes**

"What language do they speak at Durmstrang?" Tom asked as they walked up a rickety staircase which wasn't frequently used by students, preferring to use the larger and less steep Grand Staircase.

"Bulgarian mostly," Hermione answered.

"How are you going to converse with people?" he asked. Hermione swallowed, she would be using one of the products from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, a boiled sweet which changed what language came out of your mouth, however with fifty years until they were invented she had to lie.

"You assume I cannot speak Bulgarian," Hermione said feigning offense.

"You can?" Hermione nodded.

"I once had a friend from Bulgaria; I went there once to visit his family. I learnt enough of the language to get by quite well," Hermione said.

"I'm impressed," Tom said. "I wouldn't have guessed it, what other languages to do you speak?"

"A little French; I had a French friend as well, once… I was maid of honour at her wedding," Hermione said with a small smile. Tom nodded, but did not want to push the issue further, he had noticed how she had said 'once' and preferred not to ask, he hated how she looked when she was remembered sad things in her past. So they carried on walking up the spiral staircase in companionable silence.

"I had a good time today," he said, squeezing her hand a little tighter.

"Me too," she said as they reached the seventh floor and walked slowly around the corridor. "Although I think I've had my yearly allowance of caffeine toda-" Before Hermione had the chance to finish her sentence Tom had pulled her sideways and had slipped behind a tapestry. Pressing his finger to his lips he inclined his head in the general direction of Gryffindor tower.

"Come on Horace, there may only be half an hour until the students are all back from Hogsmeade and our presence will be missed," the unmistakable voice of their Herbology professor said quickly.

"To the dungeons Pomona dear?" Slughorn's voice asked, in what may well have meant to have been a seductive tone, right on the other side of the tapestry. Hermione's jaw dropped and Tom's eyed widened. Hermione raised a hand to cover her mouth as they listened to their footsteps fade away.

"No way," Hermione breathed, Tom still looked incredibly shocked, staring at the back of the tapestry. Hermione was almost worried by the way his handsome face looked so… scared. This surely would scar him for life. She let out a giggle, his eyes snapped to her and his mouth slowly turned into a smirk.

"Sprout and Slughorn," he slowly and disbelievingly.

"I will never be able to keep a straight face in either of their lessons," Hermione said worriedly.

"Sly dog," Tom said. "She's got to be _years_ younger than him." Hermione and Tom suddenly both burst into laughter at what they had just overheard. As they calmed down, Hermione realized just how close she was to Tom, hidden behind this embroidery. "I commend him however," he continued. "For he gave me the means to corner you behind a tapestry," he said darkly, but his eyes glistened with humour.

"I'll make sure to thank them later," Hermione said sarcastically, though her heart wasn't really in it. Tom smirked as he lifted the hand that was not already laced to her own, slowly to her cheek, dragging his fingertips gently up her jawline.

She almost stopped breathing as he leaned into her, pausing for a second, a hair's width from her lips. She longed to close that tantalizing distance between them and press her lips furiously to his, but she was still Hermione Granger and she still exhibited the same decorum and pride she always had.  
So she refrained.

After what seemed like an eternity, locked within this inner battle his lips finally made contact against hers. As he brushed his lips across her own Hermione's eyes fluttered shut and she felt delicious shivers shoot down her spine and out to her fingertips. She would have guessed he felt it too, because the next time he kissed her more forcefully, pressing his lips to hers almost urgently.

Before she knew it their chaste kiss, whilst holding hands was long gone. He had dropped her hand in favour to caress her waist and pull her closer to him, her hands tangled in his thick, dark hair. It was only when they broke for air that it hit her.

Oddly it was Ginny's voice that sprung to her mind with this realization. She had once caught her kissing Viktor in the library and she could just imagine what she would say if she were to witness this as well. '_Heated snogging session behind a tapestry Hermione? Good for you. It's about time I rubbed off on you.' _As this voice, a mimic of Ginny's spying in the library rang around her head her eyes widened and she pulled up Tom's sleeve to see his watch.

"I'm going to be late," she said removing herself from his embrace and slipping out into the corridor again, Tom followed her, catching her hand in his and slowing her down.

"Then don't go," he whispered alluringly in her ear as he tried to pull her gently to a stop. "Stay here with me._"_

"No," Hermione said firmly, marching on despite the e boy latched onto her hand.

"You said it yourself," he murmured, brushing the hair off her neck. "You don't really want to go." He planted a kiss on the side of her neck. "Stay here with me."

"I'm going to Durmstrang," Hermione said resolutely as they rounded the corner displaying the Fat Lady portrait. "And nothing you can do shall stop me."

"I can try though can't I," he said, snaking his arms round her waist from behind and pulling her backward.

"Stop it Tom, I'm late," she laughed trying to wriggle herself free. He sighed and let go of her. "I will see you in a week."

"Seven days," he sighed, surveying her as he placed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Less than seven days, six days and a little bit," Hermione said with a smile.

"Hex someone for me," he said with a grin, she rolled her eyes and planted a single kiss on his cheek.

"I'll see you in seven days," she repeated before turning on her heel and walking quickly to the portrait hole, not least so he couldn't try and distract her again.

"Only six and a little bit," he called after her.

He really was peculiar.

"Have fun!"

"Good luck!"

"We'll miss you!"

"Stay safe!"

As Hermione left the common room Venres, Septimus, Theo and Robert all said their farewells to her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, she smiled widely as she said goodbye to all of them. With Cedric carrying her trunk they made their way to Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, there you are!" He said opening the door and ushering them both in. "Are you ready Hermione?"

"I am indeed," Hermione said with a smile.

"Very good," Dumbledore said, clapping her on the back. "Now this should be very simple for you, I am sure will excel in this exam as well as you do in any other. Remember to stay calm and try and absorb as much information about current Dark Magic as you can." Hermione nodded and agreed with him. "Excellent, then when you are ready I shall allow you to floo, the connection should have been unsecured by both ministries this afternoon. Good luck."

"Bye Granger," Cedric said, wrapping her in a warm hug and kissing her softly on the forehead. "Promise you won't get hurt."

"I promise to try," she said with a smile.

"Okay," he replied, beaming back down at her. "Have fun, I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," she said as she grabbed a handful of floo powder. "I'll be back in time for your Quidditch 'debut.' If I don't get back in time to find you before the match, good luck."

"Thanks Granger," he said. Dumbledore then passed her a boiled sweet in a white wrapper. _Bulgarian Blueberry_ she read as she popped it into her mouth.

"Well?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't feel any different," Hermione said in confusion. Dumbledore's smile broadened.

"Absolutely no idea what you just said Hermione- remember one of these a day. Good luck," Dumbledore said happily.

"What is going on?" Hermione asked, it was only on this second sentence that she realized that her lips weren't moving in the same way as her brain thought they should be. "Oh. Bye then." With an awkward wave Hermione took a deep breath and threw the power into the flames. "Highmaster Tarasov's office, Durmstang Institute." When the fire changed colour she stepped boldly in to the flame, turning in time to see Cedric smiling a small smile at her. As she felt herself spinning for longer than she had ever experienced in a fireplace journey before, her heart sank. She knew that look; she could see the emotion in his eyes. That little glimmer of something more than just friendship and affection.

Maybe Nancy was right.

But she didn't have time to dwell on it as her feet hit solid ground and she stepped out of the hearth into an entirely unknown room.

**Chapter Twenty Seven- In Contrast**

Hermione stepped out of the large fireplace, bushing the ash from her front of her dress. The office she stepped into was about the same size of Dippet's, the walls were covered in a dark, rich wood and the floor was carpeted in a deep green. The desk directly opposite the fireplace was stacked with meticulously neat piles of files and forms, a man of about forty sat behind it. He had a short, in comparison with Dumbledore anyway, brown beard which was just starting to be specked with grey, a prominent nose and dark, beady eyes. He was wearing a thick, navy button up robe with looked rather military-esque, lace up boots and a large, fur Cossack hat. Sat in chairs under the high window were three students in blood red robes and the same fur hats, two boys, one girl. As they entered they all stood and bowed formally, she mimicked their actions.

"Miss Wembdon," the older gentleman said, in a deep, gravelly voice, extending his hand to Hermione.

"You must be Highmaster Tarasov," Hermione said, placing her hand on his. "It's a pleasure."

"The feeling is mutual Miss Wemdon," he said, placing his other hand on hers and shaking it once. "May I introduce to you some of my seventh formers, they are the same age as yourself and will be taking the Higher Certificate with you." He walked around his desk and introduced the three students. "This is Antonin Dolohov, Veniamin Krum and Alina Ivanova." The two men kissed her hand and bowed respectfully, but did not say anything or show any emotion on their faces. Alina however smiled broadly and stepped forward, clasping her shoulders.

"It fantastic to have you here, Hermione," she said, warmly, kissing her on both cheeks. "You are to be staying with me for the week."

"Miss Ivanova, here is to be your guide," Tarasov said. "You should take her down to dinner and then show her to your room, I shall have her luggage taken there."

"Yes sir," Alina said, with a polite nod before linking her arm with Hermione's.

"Thank you sir," Hermione said, also nodding her head before the students left the room.

"There are not many girls at Durmstrang," Alina explained as they walked down the chilly corridor. "Most rooms have two girls in, but there are three girls in seventh form, I'm the odd one out. You are to stay with me."

"Are there many girls at Hogwarts?" Krum asked, Hermione looked upon the unmistakable features of her ex-boyfriend's father.

"There are usually twenty girls and twenty boys in each year," Hermione said, Alina's jaw dropped in shock.

"There are three girls in our year to twenty two boys!" she gasped. "That must be strange, how do you have enough rooms?"

"There are four houses, usually about ten people from each year go into each house and the five girls sleep in a dormitory in a different tower to the boys," Hermione said.

"How strange," Alina remarked. The castle was much like Hogwarts in some ways, though not quite so old. It had the same strange contrast between the corridors and rooms in winter. The corridors were cold, dark and draughty whereas the rooms were illuminated by warm, flickering orange light. Hermione was led to a hall about half the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, with two large tables. One was a huge U-shape where the students sat to eat and to the top of the U was another, smaller teachers table all surrounded by high backed chairs.

"This is the Dining Hall," Alina said proudly. "Come and sit with us, does anyone know what is for dinner this evening?"

***  
"Tell me about Hogwarts?" Alina asked as she and Hermione sat huddled up in their thick, feather duvets in front of the fire. The deep, red room was quite large for two people, with two double beds with piles of thick woollen blankets, there was a small, crackling fireplace giving out vital warmth in the icy night, which was so cold it felt like a dagger pressed up against Hermione's skin. Alina had leant Hermione some clothes, as even her warmest garments were no match for the November chill in this part of the world. At midnight Hermione and Alina's conversation was put to an abrupt end by an agitated matron rapping on the door.

"Lights out was an hour ago girls!" she hissed sternly. Her arms were crossed and she was frowning angrily, although her hair was pulled into such a tight, high bun that Hermione would have thought all of her facial muscles were drawn to taut to move.

"Sorry matron," Alina said quickly, jumping into her bed, Hermione took her lead and crawled under the duvet.

"You are lucky you have a guest Miss Ivanova or you would be in detention tomorrow, you should know better," she reprimanded, pointing her finger at Alina.

"I apologise Matron," Alina said.

"Goodnight girls," she said firmly.

"Goodnight matron," both of them chorused before she slammed the door shut and the fire and candles magically extinguished, plunging the room into darkness.

"So that was Matron," Alina whispered to Hermione. "Delightful woman."

***  
The next day was a Sunday, so Hermione of course had no lessons to attend, instead Krum, Dolohov and Alina spent the day showing her around the impressive grounds. They met on the front steps.

"Good morning ladies," Krum said as he as Dolohov both bowed to the two girls. Alina bowed her head so Hermione also followed suit. "We have a present for you Hermione."

"It is from the both of us, as a welcome to Durmstrang," Dolohov said nicely, as Krum pulled a furry hat from his cloak. Hermione laughed and thanked them both as Krum placed it on her head.

"We thought your ears might get cold here, so as we all have one, we thought it would nice to get you one also," Krum said with a smile, happy that she liked it.

"That's so thoughtful," Hermione said, pulling it down over her ears. "I shall wear it when it snows at Hogwarts and think of here."

The Durmstrang grounds were truly impressive, the claims of them being better than Hogwarts were not exaggerated. There were sloping lawns which surrounded the castle and then mountains enclosing the perimeter of the grounds, they were truly magnificent, the lake was to the south and was entirely frozen.

"Usually," Krum told Hermione as they walked along a wide, stone pathway along the shoreline. "We can skate or toboggan from one side to the other, but the last few days have been quite warm and it is only November so I think we had better not."

"This is warm?" Hermione asked incredulously rubbing her gloved hands together.

After a long walk and some hot soup for lunch they retired to one of the many common rooms in the castle, since the weather had turned and it was now dark and hailing violently outside. Common rooms at Durmstrang were just comfortably furnished rooms dotted about the castle. Alina led them to a small one with a large fireplace and comfortable sofas which apparently wasn't often used by many students because it was the other side of the castle to the residency wing. She had learnt a lot about Dolohov, she would have thought she wouldn't like him but she didn't want to judge him too harshly, he wasn't yet a Death Eater and with her Tom situation that would have been highly hypocritical. Instead she looked for the good in him and at this age it was easy to find, he was intelligent, dedicated to his studies and his favourite subject was Arithmancy, which Hermione and he had a fantastic conversation about. Krum had all the qualities which made Hermione like his son in the future, but he was a lot funnier. He had a dry, sarcastic wit which made Alina and Hermione laugh uncontrollably.

They played exploding snap and other card games, undisturbed all afternoon with large hot chocolates and slices of cake Dolohov got from the kitchen. Dinner was late on Sundays so at almost nine o'clock they went back down to the dining hall. After they had eaten their fill Highmaster Tarasov stood up to address his students.

"I ask that all fourth and seventh formers give me their attention and that every other year stay silent," he said in a loud, demanding tone. "As you know you shall be sitting the General or Higher Certificate in Dark Magic this Friday, I am also confident you are all aware that your standard lessons have been cancelled in favour of revision this week. Monday shall be a day of the history and theory of Dark Magic. Tuesday; practical duelling techniques, Wednesday; dark artefacts and then defensive spells, Thursday; final practice for your exam and then on Friday you have theory in the morning and practical in the afternoon."

Hermione and Alina said goodbye to Krum and Dolohov early that evening in favour of a goodnight's sleep, there was no need for Matron to come and check them tonight because they were long asleep by the time she came checking her charges.

**Chapter Twenty Eight- The Art of Durmstrang**

However much she disagreed with the concepts, however much she abhorred the Dark Arts Hermione could not help but be fascinated by the theory. It was the old case of give Hermione a book and she would be enthralled until the very last page. The other students did not seem interested in the slightest, but she supposed this was just another History of Magic lesson to them, for her this was new, exciting knowledge.

By the end of her first day of lessons Hermione felt thoroughly terrible that she had held such misconceptions about Durmstrang. They had interesting lessons to rival her own school's and she had become quite fond of Krum, Alina and most surprisingly Dolohov, all of whom went out of their way to make sure she was included and felt right at home. She even quite liked the castle and how differently it was run to Hogwarts, she and Alina had an excellent time irritating the bad-tempered matron and it was very relaxing not having to share a dormitory with four other giggling girls.

It was Tuesday when she got to the part of the course she was most nervous about, the practical duelling. It fazed her even more than the actual exam, she knew she would be up to scratch in the exam what with all of her previous experience but she had no idea exactly how good the Durmstrangs were.

After a terribly long safety briefing in a room off the Entrance Hall, which for some reason smelt like cabbage, they were told to partner up and head to the grounds. With their duelling partners they would be playing a game of sorts, they would all go to different places in the grounds and stun or incapacitate as many people as they could, the pair with the most stuns and still left standing would win. Once you had stunned somebody you had to send up sparks over their body and your progress would be documented by an extremely complicated charm which Hermione made a mental note of to look up when she got back to Hogwarts. As Alina and Krum had been put in a different class for this, Dolohov asked Hermione to be his partner. Of course she couldn't say no, it would be very strange and she would have no one else to go with, plus Dolohov was one of the people she could relay information to Dumbledore about. Therefore she told him she would love to and they set out into the grounds together. He knew the grounds like the back of his hand and assured Hermione he knew the best place for them to start. He led them round the side of a large ridge which overlooked the lawns to the front of the castle and gestured for her to join him in lying on their stomachs and occasionally stealing a look over the peak.

"We had to do this in the General Certificate as well," he whispered. "Except we had to disarm."

"How well did you do?" Hermione asked.

"My pair won, but one of the other students got angry and sent a hex at the back of my partners head," he whispered.

"Let's hope we have the same luck in just one department then," Hermione replied. "I'd quite like to stay out of the infirmary."

After a few minutes they heard the sounds of duelling below them and stray sparks littering the sky. Hermione and Dolohov both poked their heads over the ridge to observe what was happening. Sure enough there were four people engaged in a duel, completely oblivious to who was above them.

"Now," he whispered. Hermione sent two silent stunners to the pair furthest from them, and Dolohov to those nearest them. All of them fell straight to the floor completely unaware. Dolohov quickly sent the red sparks in the air so that a teacher would come and revive them, but Hermione was sending more spells toward the edge of the forest opposite them. One of the pair hiding there fell, but the other carried on sprinting through the trees.

"Someone saw us," Hermione whispered.

"We have to move!" Dolohov hissed, grabbing her hand and pulling her with him as he rolled down the ridge. They both ducked as and ran side by side along the ravine; they had to get as far as possible from their original hiding position now that there was somebody out there that knew where they were. Dolohov paused and seemed to be debating the choice to enter the trees.

"We can't go in there," Hermione whispered. "We could be snuck up upon and we would never know, we should stick to vantage points, especially when we have to go out in the open to get to the forest". Dolohov nodded once and they carried on running along the gully. As they ran it curved round to the left and they stopped in their tracks.

"Stupefy!" A boy with messy red hair shouted. Hermione ducked just in time to miss it, sending a silent stunner toward his feet in the process. He threw up a shield and Hermione's spell came rebounding back toward her, she leapt back behind the corner, smashing into a jagged rock. Ignoring the small trickles of blood on her arm and paying full attention to the three male voices that seemed to be fighting just out of sight Hermione climbed up the rough rock face. Her two opponents were now duelling with Dolohov, assuming she had been hit and was out for the count, they did not expect her to send silent stunning spells at them from above their heads. Dolohov was also very surprised to see them fall, as he had not seen his partner, he looked around wildly, trying to discern whether this was yet another opponent he had to face. Hermione laughed quietly and slid down the smoother side of the gulley, next to him.

"Impressive," he commented with a small smile.

"Why thank you," she replied, brushing the small stones from her hands. "Let's go." After sending up the sparks they continued on their way down the chasm until they saw a large, spiralling stream of scarlet stairs soar into the sky. With a shrug they turned back to the castle where the teachers and the rest of a dazed looking class were waiting.

"And we have our winners!" the professor announced through his amusingly large moustache. "Mr Dolohov and Miss Wembdon!" They both smiled as the others clapped them, Hermione spotted the red haired boy telling his friends how she had climbed and got him, he seemed quite impressed.

"Well done," Dolohov said, bowing to her and kissing her hand. "You make an excellent teammate."

Hermione went to bed that evening absolutely exhausted, but very pleased with herself. It had been a long time since she had duelled, let alone in a safe and even fun environment, and she had done quite well. It had come very naturally to her, despite being a little out of tune with how physically and mentally challenging all day sparring was.

Wednesday morning Hermione sat listening to lectures about Dark Artefacts whilst trying not to stretch her various small cuts, grazes or pulled muscles. Some people may have been disheartened by this slight physical pain but to Hermione it just proved that she had done something, it was a reminder that she had worked extremely hard the day before, so there was something oddly satisfying about the way her joints ached.

What shocked Hermione about the lessons was that as the lecture progressed so did the level of dark magic each artefact contained, the only solace Hermione took from that was that whereas she was listening intently and scribbling notes as fast as her hand would let her, the rest of the class looked bored and were doodling and looking out of the window.

"I'm glad that's over," Alina yawned as she sat down to lunch.

"I know," Krum groaned. "I ended up counting the bricks on the front wall." Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes and think about how they would cope if they were subjected to Professor Binns' lessons first thing on a Monday morning.

However the afternoon's lessons proved boring even by Hermione's standards, they were merely practicing low level defensive spells, like disarming and shields. The only plus point being that they got to leave early because everyone had mastered the magic.

"So what do you learn about at Hogwarts?" Dolohov asked Hermione as he passed her and Alina mugs of steaming hot chocolate in their common room. As Hermione told her Durmstrang friends about the lessons she learnt at Hogwarts small flakes of snow floated past the window.

Hermione sighed as she closed the heavy wooden door behind her.

"How did it go?" asked Alina who was waiting outside in the corridor for her.

"Well," Hermione said beaming. "I think I passed."

"Oh well doing Herms," Alina said, linking their arms and pulling her along. "Come on Antonin and Veniamin are waiting for us." As they walked through the corridors she stopped walking, and turned to Hermione, her dark ponytail swishing behind her. "I just realized, I never thought to ask whether you have a… boy back at home."

"Oh," Hermione laughed nervously. "Well I don't _have _a boy."

"Ah but it sounds like you kind of do…." Hermione stayed silent. "It's complicated?" Alina asked, as they started to wander slowly, Hermione nodded.

"I don't know how he feels about me, I mean it only even happened just before I left for here," Hermoine said quietly.

"Did he kiss you?" Alina asked, a grin over her face. Hermione nodded again, a slight blush colouring her usually pale skin. "What's he like?" Her voice was interested, but not giggly and gossipy as girls sometimes had a tendency to be.

"He's possibly the most intelligent student at Hogwarts, and he's funny, though he has this dark sense of humour which is sometimes a little unnerving…" Hermione said pensively.

"More intelligent than you?" Alina gasped.

"Okay, maybe not _me,"_ Hermione joked. "No I would say he is."

"Is he handsome?" Alina asked coyly.

"Yes," Hermione said with a smile. "But he's… odd."

"Odd?" She asked.

"Mmm, he's very…into the Dark Arts, he seems to hate everyone and everything," Hermione sighed.

"Ah, so he's a tortured soul… interesting," Alina said impressed. Hermione shook her head.

"I wouldn't get too hyped up about it," Hermione said. "I highly doubt anything will come of it."

"Well when it does," Alina said with a smile. "You must write me a letter… I take that back. You must include it in one of the many letters you shall send me from next week, until we are old and grey." Hermione smiled and squeezed her friends arm.

"Why can't you go to Hogwarts," she asked affectionately.

"Why do you have to leave Durmstrang in the morning?"

"I'm going to miss you Herms," Alina said tearfully as they hugged outside Tarasov's office. "Promise you'll write to me."

"Of course I promise, we'll see each other soon! As soon as you turn seventeen you can come and visit me in England," Hermione said comfortingly. "All of you," she said pointedly to Dolohov and Krum. Alina nodded and removed her arms from around Hermione, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry for being so silly," she said sadly.

"Goodbye Hermione," Krum said, bowing and kissing her hand. "It has been an honour to have you here. I do hope to see you soon." He then did something very unexpected and enveloped her in a hug, which she readily returned.

"Until we meet again," Dolohov said, also hugging her. "I will look forward to seeing my duelling partner in the holidays."

"I'm going to miss you all very much," Hermione said. "If you come to see me in the summer I shall show you all the sights of London. Thank you again for the hat." With one last sad look at her friends she turned and knocked on the door to the office behind her.

"Goodbye Herms," Alina said softly as she closed the door behind her.

_(AN: Sorry it took me a few days to update, I've not been very well.)_

**Chapter Twenty Nine- Miss Me**

"Ah Hermione I was wondering how much longer you would take!"

"I've missed you too Albus! Thank you I have a wonderful time, I think it went well and I made some lovely friends. The weather was freezing but I got a hat!" Hermione said sarcastically as she stepped out of the fireplace and into Dumbledore's office.

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore replied waving an old hand in her direction. "I'm sorry, I do care I promise, but the Quidditch match starts in five minutes and I am supposed to be there cheering on my house." He tapped his gold watch and looked expectantly at her.

"Hence the robes?" she asked, pulling her suitcase out of the hearth and appraising his bright red robes with large, golden lions on.

"They are rather fetching don't you think," he said with a proud smile.

"Lovely Albus," Hermione lied, not being able to keep the disinterest out of her tone as she brushed off her blouse and skirt.

"Well come on, you don't want your friends to know you missed their match in favour of distracting me, pip pip," he said, ushering her out of the door.

"What have I missed," Hermione asked breathlessly as she pushed her way through the crowd to stand next to Maggie in the Gryffindor stands.

"They just kicked off, so not much," she replied, waving her Gryffindor flag in the air. "How was Durmstrang?"

"Excellent, I'll tell you all about it later," Hermione said scanning the sky for Cedric, he was high above the Ravenclaw goalposts. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric; the anticipation was high for the first game of the season and it seemed to crackle through the air as if it were actual magic. It appeared the students of Hogwarts had been experiencing some sort of Quidditch-withdrawal related disorder. The Ravenclaws were an ocean of blue, bronze eagles waving in the wind on their banners whereas the Gryffindor supporters were all clad in red, waving flags furiously. After ten minutes of watching the both teams' chasers go back forth with the Quaffle but not score, Hermione let her attention and mind wander, she was not really one for the sport after all. Subconsciously her gaze drifted to the stands opposite. She was pulled violently from her reverie upon seeing one person staring intensely at her. She frowned at Tom, who didn't look away, but pointed directly downward. Her frown increased and he repeated the motion.

'What?' she mouthed, again he just repeated his action. "Excuse me," Hermione said to Maggie. "I'm just going to pop to the ladies room."

"Okay, don't be too long you'll miss it," she replied, not looking at her as she was completely enthralled in the game. Trying her best not push into people Hermione edged her way out of the crowd to underneath the stands. The light was tinted red by the canvas and the seats above her head were held up by thick, wooden beams. She looked around in confusion, was this what he meant? Obviously it was because after a moment a figure came striding quickly from the opposite end of the stands, black prefect robes billowing behind him despite it being a Saturday.

He didn't say anything, just pulled her roughly toward him and into a tight embrace, his hand wound in her hair as he pinned her to his chest as though he was afraid she would suddenly disappear.

"Tom what on earth" But she was interrupted by his lips being crashed urgently onto her own, almost knocking the breath out of her. Someone had obviously scored in the game going on overheard because the deafening cheers and applause of half the school rang out around them, though neither of even heard it. Hermione pulled her lips away from him, despite every fibre of her being protesting, screaming at her not to break this contact.

"Tom, what's wrong?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he said quickly, burying his face in her shoulder and kissing the soft skin that was exposed from her blouse.

"Tom," she said, placing a hand on either side of his face and forcing him to look at her. "What is wrong."

"Nothing, now," he said, his eyes burning into his own, Hermione frowned again.

"What was wrong previously," she asked. Instead of a reply he captured her lips in his own, her hands not moving from either side of his face. Finally he withdrew for breath and closed his eyes, not daring to look at her.

"You weren't here," he said slowly, his voice was forced and uncomfortable, like he was trying to show no emotion. Hermione's jaw dropped for a second before she recovered herself, running her hands from jaw to the front of his robes and pulling him back to her height and into another kiss.

Hermione was brought of her daze by the eruption which had her breaking away from Tom and clutching her ears.

"AND NEW SEEKER, CEDRIC AMOS HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH IN HIS DEBUT! GRYFFINDOR WIN!" she heard the commentator shout above the din.

"I have to go," Hermione shouted, struggling to make herself heard. With that she wrenched herself from his arms and sprinted back the way she came, swerving in and out of the beams until she reached the fresh air. A crowd of students was beginning to form, so she slipped into it, pushing her way onto the pitch. Where the Gryffindor team were huddled up around CedriC, she saw a ginger player break away from the huddle and come toward her.

"Mione!" Venres shouted, pulling her into a hug and kissing her on the cheek. "You got back in time."

"Of course, you were all fantastic!" she gushed.

"You smell different," he commented. Hermione brought up her hair to her face and sniffed. Tom's aftershave.

"This is what Durmstrang smells like!" she said nervously. "I have to go," she added quickly. "Great game."

"Hermione!" came a shout from behind her, she groaned internally, she just wanted to go and make herself smell different.

"Cedric!" she exclaimed opened her arms as she was swept up into a hug, lifting her feet from the grass. "You were fantastic, I've never seen you fly so well!" she lied.

"Thanks," he said bashfully. "How was Durmstrang?"

"Wonderful thank you," Hermione said as he set her back upon her feet.

"You smell different," he with a frown.

"This is the smell of Durmstrang," Hermione said edgily, glaring at him slightly.

"Oh okay," he replied with an unassuming smile. "You can tell me all about it on the way to the castle."

***  
Two hours later and Hermione finally managed to slip from the common room, whilst the party was in full swing. She usually enjoyed these celebrations since travelling back to the forties, they were ten times better than those held in her own time period. Or maybe this time it didn't interrupt her revising so much, as she had already taken sixth year. None the less, today Hermione was not in the mood for the noise and energy Gryffindor tower was undoubtedly going to produce long into the night, so she retreated to the quiet sanctuary of the library.

She settled herself in an armchair in a secluded corner of the library, hardly any students were there, it was a Saturday and after a Quidditch game, no one was rushing to complete essays so Hermione was left to enjoy her book in peace and quiet.

For forty three pages.

"Good afternoon," that familiar silky voice said. Hermione tore her eyes away from the page and they met with the piercing dark eyes of Tom Riddle. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," she replied. "Sorry I had to leave so abruptly earlier."

"Quite alright, what are you reading?" he asked conversationally, placing himself in the chair next to her.

"It's about the politics of early goblin tribes," she informed him. "Yours?" she asked, gesturing to the small leather bound book in his hands.

"The magic behind thestral," he said. "I finished it a few minutes ago."

"May I borrow it?" Hermione asked. "Thestrals are fascinating creatures, they are oddly beautiful don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know," Tom said passing her the book. "I can't see them."

"Of course, sometimes I forget that I didn't used to be able to," she said. Her voice was steady but inside her head thoughts were firing. If he could not see thestrals, he could not have killed anyone. "Anything interesting happen while I was away?"

"No," he replied quickly. "Nothing."

"Tom," she placed her hand on his, which was resting on the arm of the chair. "Are you sure you're okay. You're acting very strange." He looked down at her hand before lacing their fingers together.

"I'm… fine… I just don't know how to…" he sighed looked as though he was debating what to say, he looked back down at their hands. "Oh no," he groaned as he saw his watch.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"I told some of the Slytherins to meet me-"

"The knights," Hermione teased, Tom chose to take no notice.

"I told them to meet me at two, can you wait ten minutes? I will go and get rid of them," he asked.

"Take as long as you want," Hermione said. Tom brushed his lips lightly across her fingers and rose from his chair.

"I won't be long," he said, before he left. Hermione sighed and opened the book he had consented to lend her, she flicked through the thin pages but something stood out. Creased pieces of thick parchment, she looked around her quickly to check no one would see her and slowly unfolded one. Upon it was the undisputable elegant script of Tom's, but it was the words that were formed in dark, deliberate ink which made her jaw drop and breathing speed.

That was her name.

**Chapter Thirty- The Worst Kind of Quarrel**

_Hermione. Infuriating Hermione._

The writing was that of someone extremely frustrated with their situation, Tom's writing got slowly more rushed and sloppy, something she had not ever seen, even when he had been writing the longest and most boring essays. There were holes in the parchment, where he had stabbed his quill in irritation.

_Why does she do this? Why does she always have to leave me without any knowledge of her safety or any hint that she could be thinking about me. Why do I even care? Hermione. She's just a stupid Gryffindor. A stupidly intelligent and interesting Gryffindor. Not so special. Why is she invading my every thought? Gone for a week and suddenly I can't sleep or concentrate on anything other than what she may be doing. All of sudden Hermione comes along and makes Hogwarts, my home, empty and wrong without her in it. Why do I care how much she misses me. If she misses me. Why do I have to miss her?_

Hermione frowned; the next words had been covered by angry smudges of ink, had he tried to cross it out? She quickly folded the parchment and slipped it back into the book. Pressing it into her lap as she bit her bottom lip, slowly a small smile started to creep over her face. She tried to supress it but she couldn't help herself, she knew it was wrong. He had missed her. Even if he couldn't say it to her, he could admit it to himself and it was killing him inside. That would explain his strange, erratic behaviour; he was having some serious internal conflict. All the ideas he held about him hating everyone and everything were crumbling, because he _missed_ her. If it were anyone else, Hermione would not have batted an eyelid. But this was a strong, unheard of emotion for him and he must have no idea what it felt like to care even the tiniest bit for another human being.

"Hello," Hermione jumped, Tom had come back to her, looking breathless. "Sorry Slughorn needs me, one of the third years has turned the common room into a swamp." Hermione laughed a little.

"Have fun with sorting that out," she said, handing him the book. "Thanks but I've just realized I have already read it."

"Okay," he said slipping it back into his bag. "Are you on prefect duty later?"

"Yeah, fourth floor," replied.

"I'll come find you, the second floor can do without me I'm sure," he said, with a smile. Hermione smiled back at him and nodded.

Tom walked swiftly along the corridor, he had told Hermione he would come and find her after curfew. Voices along the corridor brought him out of his musings, one was Hermione's, and she sounded angry. Quickly he disillusioned himself and rounded the corner. Five Gryffindor boys were lined up against the wall, Hermione was stood in front of them wand raised at their throats.

"You've been drinking haven't you?" she demanded.

"Only a little bit, but we won!" One of the Weasley twins said.

"So you thought that it would be fun to drink fire whiskey, have a good time and then follow me?" The boys stood there in an ashamed silence, so she continued in her furious tirade. "What makes you think that you have the right to follow me around?"

"We're sorry Mione, we're worried about you," one of the Gryffindors said.

"You've been acting oddly since you left for that auror thing," another said pleadingly. "We didn't mean any harm." Hermione's expression seemed to soften a little.

"As much as I appreciate that you care for me, it does make it alright for you to follow me around. If I wanted to share something with you I would have done," she said in a low, dangerous voice, they all looked at the ground. "Go back to the party," she said sternly, they all nodded and turned. "Except you," she added, pointing her wand at Cedric. She stood there in silence, arms crossed as the others filed down the corridor. "You of all people Cedric!" she hissed. "How could you do this to me? You of all people know why I crave privacy!"

"Granger, I swear I tried to stop them," he said imploringly.

"But you didn't! You gave in and joined in!" she accused, jabbing him in the chest with the tip of the wand. "How could you?"

"Please, believe us when we say we are worried about you, ever since I came back from St Mungos you have been staring into the distance a lot and sometimes in conversations you just freeze and shrink back inside of yourself. You're hiding something from me Hermione!" She opened her mouth to protest. "No. Don't even try to deny it. I _know_ you! I know you inside and out, more than anyone else in the world and I know when you are hiding things from me. Why is there something you suddenly can't tell me? Did I do something to make you think you can't trust me?" His voice was obviously distressed and he was begging her to answer him truthfully.

"Of course I trust you Cedric, you haven't done anything," she said sadly.

"Then please," he said, taking her hands and bending so they were at eye level. "Let me be there for you! Don't push me away."

"I'd never push you away," she said softly.

"Then tell me, what has happened to make you like this?" he asked. Hermione took a long shaky breath and looked at the floor.

"I shouldn't have to explain myself to you, why can't you just let me get over this by myself?" she asked, dejectedly.

"How am I meant to take care of you if you don't let me in," he asked, frustrated.

"I don't need taking care of, Cedric, I am perfectly capable," she retorted.

"I promised Oliver I would not let anything happen to you, do not make me break my promise to him," Cedric said in a low voice. Hermione's head snapped up to his and her wand went with it.

"How dare you bring him into this?" she asked, fury dripping from her tone. "How could use his name in defence for yourself. To hurt me?"

"Grange-"

"No!" Hermione hissed. "I will not have you saying anymore of this! I do not need protecting I am not some of sort of damsel in distress."

"So you think this is what he would have wanted for you?" Cedric asked, getting angry himself.

"He would have wanted me to have my independence and privacy! What do you know about what he would have wanted?" Hermione shouted, angry tears starting to stream over cheeks.

"He was my best friend!" Cedric yelled.

"So you think you knew him better than I did?" Hermione cried, her hands were shaking and her chest was starting to tighten at the sensitive subject they had entered. "You think you can follow me around, demand I tell you things and then use his name as an excuse for this?"

"Hermione I swear I didn't mean to hurt you! I'm worried sick about you!" Cedric shouted. "I have to watch you, everyday becoming more and more reserved and unresponsive." He held her face, with a hand on each cheek. "This isn't my Hermione," he whispered. "Please… just listen to me. I am terrified something will take you away from me. Please just tell me what's wrong. I can say I am sorry a thousand times but that will not help the underlying problem here." Hermione stepped back from him and his arms fell heavily to his sides. She wiped her tears away with her palms and turned her back on him.

"I killed someone Cedric," she said distantly.

"What?" He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, she did not turn.

"I killed one of Grindelwald's men, I didn't mean to. I only stunned him but he fell backward through a window and the glass made him bleed too much. I'm sorry if it affects me when I have to watch someone die at my hand! It doesn't help that ever since that happened, memories are resurfacing every single night of other people I did the same to, haunting me. I watch the same things happen to our friends. I can't escape those dreams Cedric! And telling you about it has just made me feel more pathetic than I already did," Hermione said bitterly, her voice unwavering, despite the memories that were digging painfully at her. Neither of them spoke for a while then, Cedric hung his head in shame.

"I'm so, so sorry," he whispered. "I had no idea it had got this bad."

"Because I didn't want you to know!" Hermione whispered. "I'm nothing more than a murderer." On those words that slipped from her mouth a wave of sadness and disappointment in herself, came rushing over her, resulting in fresh flow of tears.

"Granger," he said sadly, pulling her into a hug, her anger suddenly dissipated and she found herself clinging onto him as she cried. "You are brave and good, you couldn't help it." He stroked her hair as she tried to pull herself together. "You know you can talk me about anything, I'm sorry I say the wrong things sometimes." Hermione nodded and wiped her face again, taking a deep breath she stepped back from him.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"So are we okay now?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm still angry at you," she said in a matter of fact tone. "You're now doing my rounds for me. Fourth floor until midnight, I'm going to bed." He opened his mouth to protest. "You mentioned someone who you knew you should never utter the name of in front of me. You knew that upset me, therefore star seeker or not. You are on prefect duty tonight. See you tomorrow." With that she turned on her heel and left him standing in the corridor. He didn't go after her or leave, he just stood there shaking his head a little, full of regret.


	4. Chapters 31 to 40

**Chapter Thirty One- A Soothing Embrace**

Hermione did not go back to the common room. She did not feel like going to bed and knowing the nature of Gryffindor all night parties she would be forced to join in with them and she did not feel much like socializing either. Instead she traipsed up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, silently she opened the door, shivering slightly as the icy night air reached her. Though she couldn't help but think it was nothing compared to Durmstrang's. She crossed the platform slowly, running her hand through her hair and sat down, leaning against the wall and looking out over the moonlit grounds. She brought her knees up to her chest and took a deep breath. Why did Cedric have to bring up Oliver? They had an unspoken agreement not to speak of him. Subconsciously she brought her hand up to her necklace and toyed with the cluster of charms on the end of the long chain. Four pewter dragons, a gold radish, two diamond rings and a small silver lion with ruby red eyes. As she ran it through her fingers she surveyed the dimly illuminated landscape before her and a single tear ran down her cheek.

The door creaked open again. She quickly brushed the tear away and tucked her necklace back into her blouse, but she didn't look at the door, she assumed Cedric had followed her, and she didn't really want to talk to him. She'd forgiven him of course, but she would be cold with him for a week or two nonetheless. To her surprise she did not feel Cedric's magic as a she heard someone drop down next to her.

"You're not doing your Prefect duty," Tom stated casually from beside her.

"No," she said simply, her voice was slightly choked.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Cedric is doing it," Hermione informed him.

"Why?"

"Because he's an arsehole," Hermione deadpanned.

"I thought I heard shouting a few minutes ago." Hermione stayed silent and didn't look at him. "Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"No."

"I'm sorry that you're not," he said. "You look cold." He didn't wait for an answer before he conjured a blanket and draped it over her legs.

"Thank you," Hermione said emotionlessly, gripping at the fabric. Then Tom did something extremely unexpected, he scooted close to her and put a tentative arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently into his side. Hermione leant her head on his shoulder, but did not look at him, she continued to look out into the distance, but he didn't seem to mind her indifference.

She had no idea how long they sat there, in silence. It wasn't an awkward or annoyed silence, it was one of reassurance. Tom didn't mind that she didn't want to speak, he respected that. He knew she just needed someone to be here with her.

"Do you know what the time is?" Hermione asked softly, her voice hoarse from the pressure of holding in tears and lack of use.

"Half past one," Tom told her after a glance at his watch.

"It's late," Hermione commented.

"It is," he replied in the same, nonchalant tone, as though he had no intention of moving. Which he didn't.

"I'm sorry, you must be cold," Hermione said, laying part of the blanket over his legs too.

"Thank you," he replied, and they fell into silence once again.

Hermione slowly drifted into consciousness, though she didn't open her eyes she could tell it was bright. Obviously no one shut the curtains last night and it was colder than usual. Did one of her ditzy dorm mates forget to close a window? Drowsily she pulled her covers up higher over her shoulder and nestled her face further into her pillow. It took her few moments to realize what was wrong with said pillow, it was moving with the steady rise and fall of breath.

Suddenly alert, her eyes flicked open and she sat bolt upright. Her eyes widened as she realized exactly where she was. The astronomy tower. She looked back down at Tom, he was fast asleep, looking peaceful and oddly innocent, none of his emotions hidden by an incomprehensible mask. His arm was out at an angle were he had been holding Hermione as they slept, obviously they had fallen asleep and slowly slid down the wall, their legs tangled in the blanket he had conjured.

Then an odd thought hit Hermione, she had had a dream last night. It wasn't occupied with death and destruction, it had been about going to the doctors because cough. Despite its mundane and boring nature Hermione broke out into a smile, she hadn't had a nightmare for the first time in weeks.

She was torn, should she lay back down into Tom's comfortable embrace or should she get up and leave, pretending nothing ever happened. Neither was very fair, so she prodded Tom gently in the ribs. He recoiled as he woke, from the light. But after closing his eyes in an extended blink he too sat up. Hermione couldn't help but marvel at how he looked perfect despite just waking up after sleeping on the floor outside. He looked exactly as immaculate as he usually did, except his dark hair was falling slightly into his eyes.

"Good morning," he said uncomfortably, his eyes shifting, taking in their surroundings. Hermione couldn't help but let out a melodious laugh, which made Tom's face light up with its own smile, despite himself.

"Morning," she said finally.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, brushing her hair off her shoulder.

"Yes," she said with a nod. "Thank you… for everything. I appreciate it."

"Any time," Tom breathed, gazing into her chocolate eyes. She smiled slightly and stretched slightly.

"Do you know what the time is?" she asked.

"Fourteen minutes past six," Tom replied.

"Ah," Hermione said. "No sneaking back into the dorm for me then."

"No I suppose not," he agreed. Hermione then raised her sleeve of her white blouse to scratch her arm. "What is that?" Tom asked in alarm, Hermione's eyes flicked down to her arm, and she wrenched down her sleeve.

"Nothing," she said quickly, not looking him.

"Hermione," he said warningly. "What happened?" Hermione didn't answer so he slowly and gently took her hand and held her forearm up, rolling up her sleeve with as much care as possible. Here usually creamy, clear skin was marked with half healed cuts and scratches, her old scar still prominent. "When, how did you get these?" His voice was strained with supressed anger.

"The scratches were from duelling at Durmstrang, I had to climb some rocks and stuff like that," Hermione said quickly.

"And this one?"

"I've had that one for a year," Hermione whispered.

"Why have I never seen it before?" Tom asked.

"Usually I cover it up with make-up, but I can't do that with open wounds on my arm," she said, flinching slightly as he ran fingers lightly over the letters which spelt out _mudblood._

"Who did this to you?" he demanded.

"The woman who killed my parents," she answered.

"Who is she, where can I find her," he asked her furiously through gritted teeth.

"She's dead Tom, you can't find her," she murmured, her voice wavering slightly, his eyes shot up to her own. "I killed her." Tom's fury drained from his expression and for a reason unknown to Hermione he pulled her back into a comforting embrace.

Hermione had a dilemma as she poked at her bacon, chewing her lip as she thought. Last night she and Tom had slept together. Quite literally of course. She hadn't dreamt of anything remotely traumatic or horrific and she had felt safe, very safe. She also had the other predicament that Tom had just sat with her, exactly what she needed. To be left to her thoughts without being alone and allowed to wallow in misery. He somehow knew what to do and he had bothered to do it. Which where Tom was concerned meant that he cared more than he had about anyone else before, and they hadn't kissed. Could he have felt more than physical attraction?  
More importantly, did she?

Hermione was brought out of her thoughts by Cedric sitting heavily opposite her.

"Where were you?" he demanded.

"Pardon?" she asked politely.

"You didn't go back to your dormitory last night," he stated.

"And?"

"Where were you?" he repeated.

"Oh? You didn't know? I assumed you would have had someone following me," Hermione said, then she put the last piece of bacon in her mouth and got up and left.

**Chapter Thirty Two- Building Blocks**

"Hermione may I have a word?" Cedric asked pointedly. Hermione and Tom both looked up from their essays. They had been sat sharing a table in the library whilst penning their homework for Slughorn.

"Nope," Hermione said with a polite smile.

"Hermione," he said warningly, glancing from her to Tom suspiciously.

"Is it something about my duties as a prefect?" she asked innocently. Cedric sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Hermione you're being a child," he told her.

"Don't talk to me then," she replied curtly, her mouth pressing into a thin line.

"I know you're going to be cold with me for around ten days and then you will start talking to me again, so can we please just skip all of that part?" he asked.

"Nope," Hermione repeated, twiddling her quill in her fingers.

"Do you have to be so bloody stubborn?" he asked in exasperation. "Please just come and talk to me!"

"There is nothing you can have to say to me within the next ten days which cannot be said in public, Cedric darling," she said in false sweetness, before adding in a harsh tone. "Yes, bloody stubborn."

"Hermione I know you're angry at me and I'm sorry bu-"

"I think you should leave," Tom said, speaking finally. His eyes were narrowed at the Gryffindor in front of him. Cedric stiffened as he turned to face Tom.

"Excuse me?" he asked, glaring at Tom. He rose from his seat so that they were the same height.

"I think it is time you left," he repeated, aggressively.

"And what makes you think you have the right to tell me to do that?" Cedric asked, eying him up and down, sizing him up. Hermione couldn't help but notice how similar, yet different they are, Cedric was only a tiny bit taller. They had the same quite broad build, except Tom was more elegant and even graceful whereas Cedric slightly more boyish and athletic. They both had the same tousled hair, but Tom's was raven and Cedric's chestnut.

"I am not forcing my company on Hermione here, it's not very gentleman like of you to demand to speak with her when you are aware that she is upset with you and not exactly appreciative of your company," Tom hissed.

"Oh and you think she thinks she enjoys your company?" Cedric scoffed. Tom's lips turned into a smirk and his eyes twinkled with mirth.

"I know she will do," he said suggestively, quirking an eyebrow. Cedric's hands turned to fists.

"Don't you dare talk about her like that," he said in a dangerously low.

"Or what? Head Boy going to hit me?" he mocked, looking at Cedric with disdain. Hermione watched as Cedric closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

"If this is who you would rather spend your time with Hermione," he said, turning to her. "I congratulate you on finding the biggest arsehole in the castle. I'll be here when you come to your senses." With one last hateful look toward Tom, who was still smirking and just shrugged, infuriating Cedric further, he stalked out. Tom chuckled and sat back down. Hermione looked at him reproachfully.

"That was naughty," she told him. He just laughed again and knocked their legs together. Hermione tried to supress a smile but she couldn't help but laugh with him.

"Go back to your essay will you, you're disturbing me," he said dismissively, softening it with a wink. Hermione rolled her eyes but did so.

Half a roll of parchment later Hermione and Tom dotted their last full stop in synchronization, and handed each other their work.

"You could put something about the sustainability of collecting ingredients from live specimins such as unicorns," he suggested as he scanned the work. Hermione nodded.

"Thank I'll add it to the end," she said gratefully, a few minutes later she spoke again. "Tom why have you mentioned yourself in an essay about Beautification Draughts?" she asked, trying to smile.

"Slughorn knows it's true, no one's essay is complete without a phrase or two about how good looking I am," he replied arrogantly.

"You know, there's a very popular saying something along the lines of; modesty is the most attractive trait one can possess," Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Really?" Tom asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Because I have only heard that from unattractive people."

"You are terrible," Hermione said in a monotone.

"Thank you," he said nicely, inclining his head to her.

"How could you take that as a compliment?" she asked in disbelief.

"A whole lot of arrogance and a little bit of conceit," he replied, his lips tugging at the corners. Hermione sighed and continued to read his essay.

"You've not put the reference as to where you got those statistics," Hermione said, pointing to the bottom of the last page. Tom nodded and set it right as Hermione added another few sentences to her essay.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked, slipping the essay back into his bag. Hermione thought for a moment, surveying the weather out of the window. It had got colder during the day.

"Yeah go on then."

"I wish you weren't a Gryffindor," Tom said out of the blue as they sat on the shores of the lake.

"Why's that?" Hermione asked, mildly interested.

"I think you'd do better in Slytherin," he said.

"They would never let me in," she laughed.

"Why not? You're intelligent, cunning-"

"And a mudblood," Hermione interrupted.

"Don't call yourself that," he reproached unexpectedly. "Anyway, if you were in Slytherin, we would share a common room, that would be better."

"I think I'd pass, you live under the lake," Hermione said airily. "I would say you should have been sorted into Gryffindor instead but we both know that would never have happened in a million years."

"Thank you for the compliment," he said with grin, Hermione chose to ignore his dig at her house and instead cast her eyes out over the lake. "Do you like me?"

"What?" she asked, surprised by his abrupt question.

"Do you like me," he asked, his features expertly schooled to show none of the emotion which was rushing through him.

"Why do you ask?" Hermione said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I merely wish to know how you feel about me," he said nonchalantly. Hermione shrugged.

"I suppose you're alright," she teased, smirking at him.

"Alright?" he asked.

"Yeah… I guess you're okay," she confirmed.

"I think I'll take that a 'I can hardly keep my hands off you'," Tom said haughtily. "It's good know." Hermione shook her head but reached out for his hand, wrapping her cold, slender fingers around it.

"I like you," she said simply, Tom's mask did not change but he squeezed her hand once and pulled her closer to him, wrapping his cloak around her as well.

"You feel cold," he stated, Hermione nodded slightly and enjoyed the warmth of his close proximity. "I like you too."

***  
Hermione pulled the hood of her cloak tighter over hair, shielding it from the icy splash of raindrops as her Herbology class waited outside the greenhouses. It was a dismal day and Hermione did not appreciate having to stand out in the cold, today would have been a good day to have Ancient Runes or Arithmancy, a subject which did not involve moving from the comfort of a warm, dry classroom. She caught Tom's eye, who also looked very displeased at their situation.

"So what do you reckon is taking Sprout so long?" Venres asked, slouching on the wall next to Hermione. He was the only Gryffindor boy she was talking to today, he hadn't followed her. Though she wasn't sure whether it was because he thought it was morally wrong or because he was too drunk to tear himself away from a blonde seventh year in a short skirt. She was going to go with the first idea.

"No idea," she replied honestly, as she said it the young professor finally burst out of the potting shed nearest them.

"Excellent, my sixth years," she said happily, clapping her dirty hands together. "You all look a bit damp… never mind, never mind, I have a treat for you all! Today we start our projects." The class did not look as excited as she did, they merely stood there in a miserable silence. They did not view this as some sort of treat. "Come, come Greenhouse seven today!" This did capture the class's attention; the walls of this greenhouse were covered with glamour charms so they could not be looked into from the outside, there were many old stories about the plants which lived in there. Not even the seventh years had been in this greenhouse so with renewed vigour and intrigue the class filed into the greenhouse.

Only to be met by huge disappointment.  
The greenhouse was completely empty.

"Biggest anti-climax ever," Venres whispered in her ear, Hermione nodded slightly and they shared a look.

"Everyone in then?" Sprout called from the back of the greenhouse, the class all stood in a huddle by the door. "Excellent, now I expect you're all wondering why on earth I have finally let you into the mysterious greenhouse seven just to have it empty!" She could say that again. "Well you are mistaken, this greenhouse may not contain plants but they contain an awful lot of magic!" With a flick of her wand fourteen thick, wooden doors appeared on the walls as though they were breaking the surface of water, not solid bricks. "Through each of these doors is a greenhouse, you shall be working individually to create your own space which I shall mark in the new year. Inside is basic Herbology equipment and a token for Dogweed and Deathcap which you may use to buy up to five galleons of goods on your next Hogsmead weekend, I believe it is the first Saturday in December. You may of course come to me for any other help you need, but I may take that in to consideration when giving out grades. This is a competition, with secret prizes for first, second and third place. I assure you they are prizes very much worth winning." She said with a wink and a knowing glimmer in her eye. "As such I urge you all to try your very best and hint to you all, to stop others from entering your greenhouse the best you can, you never know who might come trying to steal your ideas. You have until February and you may spend any free time you have in here if you wish." Sprout then called out a register and as she read out each person, their names appeared, carved into the wood of the door. Hermione, as the last person on the list was the final person to get her door.

_Hermione Wembdon_ carved in ornate writing on the door, she pushed it open and slipped inside. It was a simple greenhouse, dull with the overcast November weather. Hermione sighed, lowered her hood and pulled out her wand, after an elegant swish a comfortable armchair appeared on the cold stone floor. Shedding her wet cloak and hanging it on the back, she sat in the arm chair and brought her bag up on her knees. From the enlarged depths she pulled a thick tome, full of ancient, complex magic. She flicked through the thin pages, finding the page she was looking for. After reading it through slowly, to check her method she shut the book with a loud thud and rose from her chair, standing directly in the centre of the room. Raising her wand and one palm aloft she closed her eyes. She waited until she could feel the gentle, ebb and flow of her magic bubbling to the surface of her consciousness like an ocean on a calm day. With great restraint and skill she channelled that familiar magic down through her fingertips. Gradually she felt the room grow warmer and as she did the magic got increasingly more difficult to control, becoming more unruly, but she did not falter, holding her breath and trying to not to let the pressure that was building up inside her, overcome her resolve; she stood stock still, shaking slightly. Finally the room reached the temperature she wanted and she gradually pulled the magic back through her fingertips. Snapping her eyes open, she dropped her arms and shook her limbs, breathing fast. With a grin she noticed how blue the sky behind the glass roof was, all fake of course. She then placed the wards she had performed so many times on the door into her greenhouse, the wand movements and incantations spilling from her mouth and wand automatically despite the fact they had not been necessary to perform in so long.

Feeling slightly drained after all that intricate and advanced magic, she decided to go to lunch.

**Chapter Thirty Three- Discoveries**

"Hermione will you please-" Cedric stopped short.

He had thought his old friend was sat comfortably on the sofa reading a book contentedly, so he had come to make her talk to him again. In actual fact she was sat perfectly straight, staring into the depths of the dancing flames in hearth before her. She was unmoving, her face set into a mask of no emotion, but her eyes were shining unnaturally with unshed tears although there were no traitorous tracks marking her cheeks. Her knuckles were white, clutching the cover of her book with great force. "Granger?" Cedric said nervously, slipping down onto the settee beside her. "Are you okay?" She didn't answer, nor did she acknowledge his presence, though it wasn't as if she were still ignoring him, it was more as if she was completely cut off from any world except the one in her own thoughts. "Granger?" he repeated, louder this time, placing his hand on hers and shaking her gently. Her head whipped round and her eyes widened, as though she were seeing him for the first time. "Granger?" he said again, getting more and more anxious about her behaviour. As her bottom lip trembled slightly Cedric's brow furrowed further. "Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, his grey eyes flashing with concern.

"I… I…." Hermione stammered her voice croaky and hoarse. "I found this." Slowly she opened her book. Staring out at them were their own faces, along with many others.

Harry and Ginny were stood in the middle, his arm slung proudly around his wife's waist. Ron and Lavender were at side of the picture, he was sat casually on a table and she was sat on his knee smiling widely. Next to them were Fred and George, both smirking wickedly; in front of them Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, Angelina turning round in outrage, arm aloft and ready to smack one of the twins for pinching her bottom. Along a bit more and you came to Cedric, one arm resting on his best friends' shoulder and the other around Cho Chang, who was smiling shyly at the camera. His best friend Oliver Wood, was smiling broadly, both arms wrapped lovingly around Hermione's shoulders, who was stood in front him, laughing and looking at the floor. Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood were also stood next to them, lightly holding hands and smiling serenely up at the camera. Bill, Fleur and Charlie stood at the other side of the photo, the boys both laughing warmly at each other and Fleur rolling her eyes, looking as radiant as ever. Other faces swam in the background but those were not the ones that neither Hermione nor Cedric could stop themselves from looking at.

"Why are you looking at this?" Cedric asked softly.

"I just found it, it was pressed between the pages of my book," she replied sadly, closing the book gently and hiding the evocative photo from view. Cedric nodded, he now understood why she was acting like this, she had been caught completely unawares by this photograph of _Spudd;_ a branch of younger members of the Order. Fred and George had come up the name of course, 'Sexy People Under Dumbledore's Direction' by the time they had informed the others that they had named their group, they had already made t-shirts and claimed that because of this nobody could complain and change the name, the others grudgingly agreed to indulge them this.

"Come here," he said wrapping his arms around her shoulder comfortingly. Hermione sniffed slightly and squeezed his torso.

"I'm sorry for ignoring you," she mumbled into his shirt, burying her face. "I didn't mean it. It was stupid and petty and I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

"Don't worry," he said, smoothing her hair. "Don't think you're ever going to manage to get rid of me, and I deserved it. I'm sorry." Hermione nodded slightly and clung to his chest tighter. "Come on, let's go down to the kitchens, get you some hot chocolate." Hermione allowed Cedric to lead her from the common room, numbly. Hermione never let go of her hold on Cedric, too scared that he might be blown away as if he were smoke and be lost forever. She couldn't get an image out of her mind; it was as if it was burnt onto the back of her eyelids. Short brown hair windswept by his life on a broom, chocolate brown eyes, humour and determination always dancing in them, his strong, burly build and blue jeans. Despite the fact she tried with all her might and all of her Occlumency skills she could not get the image of her smiling Oliver out of her mind, and it was making her shake and panic as she tried. "Calm down," Cedric said soothingly. "It's all going to be all right."

She nodded in response, though she knew it wasn't true. It had taken her months after his death to get this out of her head and here she was again, haunted by a single photograph. She tried to pull herself together, she knew she was being pathetic but she simply couldn't, she was too exhausted and too caught up in her own emotions.

"Where are you-" came a voice from behind them in the dimly lit corridor. "Oh it's you two." Cedric and Hermione swung around. For a second Hermione could swear she saw the shape of someone who wasn't there.

"Oliver," she said so weakly not even she heard it, her head spinning in incomprehension. As soon as she said it, she realized she was very much mistaken and it was actually Tom Riddle, silhouetted against the orange glow of the candle lit walls. He eyed the way they were holding each other suspiciously.

"Surely you of all people know it's after curfew and that you're not setting a very good example."

"Shut the hell up," Cedric said acidly. "Can't you see something is the matter with her, hang the bloody curfew."

Tom advanced upon them, taking in Hermione's pale and shaking form. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, his voice had lost its edge.

"She's not feeling well," Cedric said quickly.

"I… I'm fine," she corrected him. "I'm completely fine, I just haven't eaten."

"Who's Oliver?" Tom asked, maybe he had read Hermione's lips.

"I don't know an Oliver," Cedric and Hermione both said in synchronization, before turning and looking to each other in disbelief.

"I'm sure," he replied, casting his eyes upward. "I'll get back to my prefect duty now then."

"Bye," she said, as Cedric turned them both without another word back the opposite way down the corridor.

"Fancy finding you up here," Tom drawled as he sat himself next to Hermione on the floor of the astronomy tower, it was about an hour until dinner.

"I've decided it's a nice place to come and think," she said detachedly.

"That's very true," Tom said with a nod. "What's that?" He gestured to the small, leather bound book in her lap.

"A photo album," she said, toying with the corner of it.

"You seem a little out of sorts," he noticed, looking at her with concern. Hermione turned to him and stopped looking out at the grounds. Her heart ached a little to remember who he would become and what he seemed to be now.

"I suppose you could say that," she said mysteriously.

"You have been ever since the other night, with Amos," he said accusingly. "Are you two a couple?" Hermione's eyebrows shot up.

"No of course we are not," she said resolutely.

"You never have been?" he asked, surveying her as if to determine whether she was being truthful.

"No, we haven't," Hermione said.

"You certainly seemed quite close," he said bitterly.

"I could hardly stand up," she said dryly. "He was helping me. And we _are_ close, just not in that way."

"Good," he said flippantly, removing his gaze from her. Hermione shook her head slightly and also turned away from him, after a few minutes' silence he spoke again. "How's the Herbology project coming along?"

"Well thank you," she said. "Yours?"

"Also well… is yours a big secret?" he asked.

"Not especially, I just don't want people strolling in of their own accord," Hermione said.

"Sneaking Slytherins trying to sabotage, you mean," he corrected with a smirk.

"It's like you took the words straight out of my mouth," Hermione replied, tugging at the sleeve of her soft cashmere jumper.

"How are your arms now?" he asked.

"As good as new," she replied. "Well maybe not new, but as good as they were a month ago." Tom nodded solemnly.

"Have you made Hogsmeade plans yet?" he asked.

"No, the Gryffindors hinted about going with them but I haven't said yes to anyone," she said.

"So you are free to go with me," he stated.

"Oh am I?" she said with a smirk.

"Yes," he said, quite seriously. "Unless you'd rather go with Crabbe of course…"

"Okay, I suppose I could with you, I had fun last time," Hermione conceded. Tom raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Stop it you," she whacking him playfully in the stomach.

"You know," he said slowly, leaning in and looping a stray strand of her thick hair around his fingers, twirling it slightly. "We could always have a repeat of last time… to practice for next week." Hermione shivered slightly as he moved in closer his arm snaking round her waist.

"You are terrible," she told him with more defiance than she felt, still staring resolutely forward.

"You say that a lot," he whispered, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her earlobe.

"That's because I mean it a lot," Hermione retorted, her toes curling as she tried to keep up her blasé façade. Tom grinned widely, pulling her closer into his side.

"You don't have to pretend around me, Hermione, I know sometimes you like a little…terrible," he said, caressing her cheek. She narrowed her eyes, but she and Tom both knew it wasn't how she really felt.

"Sometimes I wonder whether you have multiple personality disorder," she said.

"Thanks Hermione, you're really good looking too," he said arrogantly, his eyes burning into her own.

"But I never said you were-" she was cut off mid-sentence by him pushing his lips passionately into hers. It was at that moment when all her resolve melted away as if it were never there, her hands twisting in his silky hair as his hands grasped her waist, pulling her into his lap. Running one hand up her back he briskly pulled the band from her hair, making it tumble from its bun and fall around her shoulders in voluminous curls so he could run his hands through it.

The sound of the door opening behind them tore them away from each other in surprise, both of their heads whipping around toward the sound.

Hermione's stomach dropped as she saw who as the door, her blood suddenly running cold.

"Cedric!" she shouted after him.

He had already slammed the door.

**Chapter Thirty Four- Explanations Necessary**

"Cedric! Cedric wait!" she cried as she flung herself toward the door, wrenching it open and tearing down the spiral staircase, taking two steps at a time. "Cedric!" she called as she finally caught up with him. "Cedric please!" She clutched onto the back of his shirt. He swung round, an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes. "Cedric you have to listen to me!"

"Why? When I just witnessed that?" he asked in disbelief.

"Please Cedric," she pleaded. "You have to hear me out on this one." Cedric looked torn between leaving and staying. He gave her a look and walked briskly down the corridor, Hermione hot on his heels.

"Well?" he asked, as the door to the room of requirement dissolved into the wall paper.

"I… I never meant for that to happen," Hermione said frantically, wishing to banish Cedric's disapproval of her.

"You looked like you were having a horrible time," he said sarcastically. "Why on earth would you let him do that to you? You are acting like one of those Slytherin girls!"

"Cedric, we just kissed! And it's not like that, we're friends. He's nice to me! We spend time together, do essays!" Hermione tried to explain. "It just got out of hand!"

"He's dangerous Hermione," he warned her. "Why would you do that?" Hermione bit her lip and looked at the floor.

"Dumbledore told me to," she uttered, barely audibly.

"What?" Cedric said in astonishment. "No, he would never do that! He wouldn't put you in that danger! He would have said something."

"He told me not to tell you," Hermione said sadly, her eyes wide. "I'm so sorry, he thought you would try and stop me. He said it was for the greater good." Cedric brought a hand up to his face rubbing his temples, eyes closed.

"I'm not angry at you Hermione, you're just following his orders," he sighed. "I don't blame you."

"Thank you," she said gratefully, squeezing his hand.

"I have to go and speak to Dumbledore," he said, starting toward the door, but then he turned to look at her again. "Do you like him? Riddle?" Hermione bit her lip and frowned at him.

"Cedric, I know what he once became, but at this moment in time, based purely on the boy that I have met here and not anything about our past and his future… yes. I do like him and I am going to do my very best to keep him this way, the way I like him. Because he can't do any harm to our family and friends while he is like _this_," Hermione said earnestly, wringing her hands together. "Please don't be angry with Albus, he really thinks it's for the best."

"Hermione, he's readily risking your safety," he replied.

"I gave it up willing, anything to try and save the future," she said. "It's my decision and I have my mind made up, if this will help, even in the slightest I will do it."

"But what about you, does nothing count for what you want?" he asked, wretchedly.

"This is what I want. I want to make them safe, nothing matters more to me than that," she said ardently.

"Even your own happiness?" he asked her softly.

"Even my own life."

He nodded once and left her there. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and closed her eyes briefly in relief. That could have gone terribly wrong.

Then her eyes flicked open and she looked down at her hands. She swore violently and raced for the door, her heart hammering in her chest as she sprinted through the corridors and up the spiral staircase back up to the astronomy tower. She almost choked on what she saw; Tom was there, still leaning casually on the wall, unmoved from where they had sat; a mildly curious expression on his face as he flicked open the first page of the little leather-bound book.

"No!" she shouted as she dived for the book, knocking it out of his hands and in turn plummeting to the cold floor. But he had seen it.

"That's Hogsmeade," he said slowly, the confusion evident in his features. "… and you look about twelve." Hermione stayed silent staring down at the photograph he had seen, Harry, Ron and herself outside the Three Broomsticks at the start of their third year.

"That's because I was twelve," she said sourly, pressing up the book up against her chest.

"Who were the boys with you?" he asked.

"My two best friends," she replied.

"I thought Cedric was your best friend," he stated.

"I had many people I considered to be best friends, I had never spoken to Cedric at this point in my life," Hermione said.

"Oh," he said. There was a long silence. "You're right you did have incredibly bushy hair."

"What?" Hermione asked. She was expecting a second degree about why she was in Hogsmeade, who her two friends were or… why she was wearing trousers.

"You said to me, when we were going to Hogsmeade that you had bushy hair and I didn't believe it," he said simply. Hermione smiled in relief, out of all the things he could have focussed on, all the things he could have asked her, he merely commented on her hair. "Is your friend… okay?" He asked, changing the subject.

"He's fine, just shocked," she replied.

"What did you tell him?" he enquired.

"That we are friends and that no one was meant to see _that,_" Hermione said quietly.

"I bet he found the friend part hard to believe," he replied dryly. Hermione just laughed uncomfortably. "Are you alright?" Hermione looked at him, he seemed genuinely worried about how she was feeling, six months ago had somebody told her that she would sit on the floor of the Hogwarts astronomy tower with Tom Riddle and talk about feelings, she would have probably called the police. But it actually felt kind of nice, knowing that he wanted to know.

"Of course, I'm fine," she replied with a small smile. Tom outstretched his arm, beckoning her to him with a movement of his finger. She hesitated for a second, looking at him disapprovingly before she gave in and edged toward him. He entwined their fingers together and pulled her the rest of the distance in toward him,

"I would apologize for kissing you and triggering your little dispute, but I'm not sorry," he said with a smirk. "I enjoyed myself." Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but allowed him to wrap his arms around her waist.

"Ever the gentleman," she said derisively, leaning into the hollow of his shoulder and looking out over the grounds, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun.

"You know me," he replied with a sarcastic smile. "I take it you're staying at Hogwarts over Christmas?" Hermione nodded. "What about summer."

"I'm going to spend half my time here and half in Oxfordshire with Cedric," she said.

"Oxfordshire?" he asked.

"Cedric leaves school this year and is planning on buying a house in Oxfordshire whilst joining the auror department," she informed him.

"I didn't know they took students straight from Hogwarts, and how is going to afford a house before he joins?" he asked.

"He has previous experience, the head of the auror office invited us both to sign up as soon as we leave here, when we saw him last month," Hermione explained. "And he's the sole heir to a wealthy wizarding family in Sweden, he's related to the Dumbledore's after all. If it were me graduating first I would have to rent a pokey little flat on the dodgy side of London, but I'm just an orphan from a muggle family."

"You not the only one," he said guardedly, Hermione didn't reply but rested her head on his shoulder, her soft hair tickling his neck. A moment later she felt his cheek on the top of her head.

"Hey Mione," Venres said as he flung himself onto the sofa, beside her. "I must say you look…. utterly incandescent this evening."

"Hello Venres," she replied suspiciously, closing her book. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, nothing!" he said, leaning casually on the back of the sofa. "Did I mention how exceptionally exquisite your beautiful eyes are?"

"Venres," she said warningly, eyes narrowed in distrust. "What do you want?"

"Why is it, that whenever I compliment a lady they think I must have sort of ulterior motive?" he asked innocently.

"Because nine times out of ten that is exactly what you have," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. "Now what is it?"

"Fine," he sighed. "I need you to convince Dumbledore to book us the Quidditch pitch for two days straight."

"Why…" Hermione asked charily.

"What do Weasleys, no what do _Gryffindors_ do best, Hermione dear?" he asked her, waggling his eyebrows.

"What on earth would be the occasion to have a party on the Quidditch pitch?"

**Chapter Thirty Five- Nausea**

"Fancy coming for a run with me?"

"I do not 'run' Cedric," Hermione retorted, eyes lifting from her book.

"Light jog?" he asked.

"Not a chance," she replied.

"Brisk walk?" he suggested. Hermione looked up at his eager face and sighed, as he had forgiven her for keeping secrets she might as well go with him.

"Okay," she said, dropping her book into her bag. "Brisk walk it is. Merlin knows why you can't just be a lazy slob and be done with, and dragging me into your horrific athletic ways is just cruel. It goes against nature."

"Your fit, don't act like I'm in the wrong for keeping in shape," he said defensively.

"Cedric it's a Saturday morning in November and you want to go for a run. I read, not run. And I stay in shape because it necessary for the continuation of staying alive should I be cast into an unforeseen duel, not for fun like you," she said with a shudder.

"But running _is_ fun," he replied.

"You're crazy, you know that? Absolutely barmy."

"We should go inside, it's starting to rain," Cedric commented as they walked the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione nodded and pulled her hood over her hair.

"What was that?" she asked a minute later, gazing into the darkness of the trees and raising her wand.

"What was what?" he asked, peering into the shadows as well.

"Something is glowing in there," Hermione said, pulling on Cedric's arm and walking toward the edge of the trees.

"We shouldn't go in there," he said firmly.

"No, that would be very reckless," she agreed.

"Perhaps dangerous," Cedric said, but the curious glint in his eye was giving him away.

"Yes, anything could be lurking in there," Hermione said, catching his eye. She bit her lip and raised her eyebrows, a grin spread across his face. They both knew the pull of adventure was too strong for them to resist. With nod from each, they walked cautiously past the forest boundaries. It got gradually dimmer as they entered the forest, the hairs on the back of their necks stood up on end and they got the unnerving feeling that they were being watched. Hermione, clinging on to Cedric's arm, led them forward, toward the shimming silver light.

"Could it be a patronus?" Cedric whispered.

"It's the right colour," Hermione said. They carried on walking, that feeling of observation getting stronger with every passing second, it was heavy on them like gravity had suddenly become a lot stronger.

"Cedric," Hermione whispered a while later. "We have been walking for some time and the light hasn't got any bigger."

"You don't think-"

He was interrupted by the whooshing sound of arrows cutting through the cold air, and landing with a _thunk_ around them. Hermione, panicking grabbed onto Cedric's hand as they both turned in terror, trying to discern who or what had done that. They looked down at their feet; they were stood within a perfect circle of arrows.

"Who's there?" Cedric called out. There was no answer.

"Lumos Maxima," Hermione said, fumbling for her wand, bathing the forest in unnatural light and illuminating the beings surrounding them, throwing their faces into a frightening contrast.

Centaurs.

"More importantly, who are you?" asked one in a demanding, booming voice.

"Cedric Amos," he replied, he sounded braver than he felt at this moment in time, shielding Hermione protectively with his body.

"Hermione Wembdon," she said, voice wavering.

"You cannot lie to us," the same voice stated from the gloom. "Your real names." Hermione swallowed, her throat dry and uncomfortable.

"Cedric Diggory and Hermione Granger," she said softly. A murmur ran through the trees.

"Enough!" Ordered the centaur that seemed to be in charge. Silence fell again in the herd and the leader stepped forward, his hooves hushed by the soft earth underfoot. "We were wondering when you would make yourselves known to the centaurs," he said, addressing them. His fur was jet black, with one flash of white hair leading up to where his torso changed into that of a muscular male. "Hermione Jean Granger. Cedric Jasper Diggory."

"How do you know our real names?" Cedric asked.

"We centaurs get told many, many things," he said mysteriously.

"Told by whom?" Hermione asked.

"Not by whom, Hermione Jean Granger. By the planets of course," he replied.

"But I thought the planets gave vague and uncertain predictions," Hermione said.

"You thought wrong," he said, not unkindly. "Just because they and we in turn do not usually disclose to their prophecies to wizards and witches like yourselves does not mean they do not show and tell us details."

"That is amazing," Hermione breathed. "Wizards cannot see anything."

"Please excuse Hermione, she a sceptic when it comes to divining by wizardkind," Cedric said warily.

"That is because most of the time they are complete frauds who use ridiculous methods like gazing into crystal balls and reading tea leaves," she said defensively.

"The girl is correct, humans glorify their ways of seeing, when they are in reality quite crude. We have been awaiting your arrival for many moons now." Another centaur stepped forward, she seemed to be female, her long, fair hair braided over her shoulder, she was bowless.

"Glorious warriors from the impending inferno," she said in a high pitched voice with sounded a lot like Trelawney's, her eyes were wide and her mouth upturned. "Come to save not only the magical world, but the non-magical and all those in between from the dark clouds of death and destruction hanging over the future. You have come to us at long last."

"Calm yourself Oenothera," he said firmly. "It is the norm for centaurs to not share their visions with wizards, but the pair of you are special in many ways." The centaur Oenothera stepped forward, looking inquisitively at them with wide, sad eyes. "We do not usually meddle in the affairs of wizards, but the planets tell us we must or we shall face devastation."

"You come to us from the turn of the millennia," she whispered, almost fearfully. "You come back with selfless intent to save and heal all of creation for those who dwell within it."

"For that the centaurs thank you and shall assist you as much as we can," the leader said.

"Brave, gallant, loving crusaders of peace," Oenothera whispered to herself, swaying silently.

"You may leave our forest unharmed and return should you ever need to," the leader said.

"Thank you," Hermione said seriously. "We apologize nonetheless for encroaching into your forest."

"You would not have come had we not lured you here," he replied with a self-satisfied smile, his chest puffed out proudly. "We wished to check whether it was you." Hermione gave them a small smile.

"You will tell no one of our real identities, will you?" she asked.

"We shall not, Hermione Jean Granger and Cedric Jasper Diggory," he said. "You have my word."

"That was… surreal," Cedric said, stunned as they walked back up to the castle.

"For a second there I thought they were going to kill us," Hermione admitted, clutching onto his arm a little tighter, nerves still shaken.

"It's unsettling, knowing how much they know… not knowing how much they could have hidden from us," he said contemplatively.

"I expect they know a lot more than they are letting on," Hermione said. "They know our names after all, and even where we came from."

"I shall never look at a centaur in the same way again," he said.

"Me neither, I wonder what made them so hostile in the future," she wondered out loud.

"Maybe a lack of _glorious warriors_," he laughed.

"Fine, I'll ask Dumbledore today after transfiguration," Hermione said rolling her eyes and poking at her bacon.

"Thanks Mione," Septimus said with a smile. "We knew we could count on you."

"Feel free to tell me about what you're planning any time," she said sarcastically, annoyed at their secretiveness. The twins just smiled and shook their heads at one another. Hermione took another sip of pumpkin juice and pushed the bacon over her plate some more.

"You haven't eaten anything, Hermione," Cedric said from beside her, warming his hands on his cup of tea.

"I don't feel very well," she mumbled. Cedric's brow furrowed and he felt her forehead.

"You're feeling a little chilled, what kind of not feeling well?" he asked in concern.

"I'm not sure," she said. "Just not right."

"You are looking pale Mione," Venres said. "Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing." She set down her fork and rose from the table, slinging her bag onto her shoulder.

"I think I might just do that," she replied weakly.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Cedric called after her.

"No, no, I'm fine, I'll see you in a little while."

Unfortunately her plan of strolling up to the Hospital wing, taking a potion from Madam Finchley and continuing to her first lesson were thrown out of the window. In fact they might as well have been blasted off the top of the Astronomy Tower. As she walked along the Gryffindor table her vision started to distort and blur and there was a peculiar tingling sensation all over her skin. Slowly she lifted a slender hand to inspect, she could have sworn it was tinged slightly green. She stopped examining her hand and it flew up to her temples as her path veered off to one side unintentionally and her balance gave out. She collapsed onto the cold, unyielding flagstones of the Great Hall, one arm twisted and crushed beneath her and her head bounced off the slab of stone, leaving a pool of sticky, scarlet blood.

**Chapter Thirty Six- Scheming Gone Awry**

Cedric was first at her side, swiftly followed by the twins, Theo and Robert. He ripped off his jumper and pressed it to the side of her head, trying to stem the blood flow a little.

"Go and get Dumbledore, I'll take her to the hospital wing," Cedric ordered to no one in particular. Theo and Robert dashed off to find the transfiguration professor, who was absent from breakfast that morning. "Septimus, can you keep this pressed here?" he asked, the red head nodded and held the jumper to Hermione's head as Cedric picked her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather, her uninjured arm dangling by her side.

"Come on Mione," Venres said urgently, taking her hand and squeezing it. "You can do this."

"Is it just me?" Septimus asked. "Or is she turning green?" The other two boys stayed silent, not wanting to admit that he was not seeing things, and their beloved friend was turning steadily greener.

"You are correct Madam Finchley, it seems Hermione here has been poisoned," Dumbledore said gravely, surveying his goddaughter with concern. She was lying on her back in the clinical hospital cot, her skin a putrid green colour, her arm bandaged up and her head stitched.

"She shall have to stay in here for quite a while Albus, are you sure we should not send her to St Mungo's?" the mediwitch asked.

"She would never forgive me if I let her be dragged off there whilst unconscious. She hates having to go to the hospital," he said solemnly. "I am confident in your abilities to heal her. I shall check her condition is not more serious than it seems with Healer Jarntine. "You will keep me informed?"

"Of course Albus, we must let her rest for now, though," the old witch said. "Which means the lot of you must leave."

"I'm not leaving," Cedric said firmly. "There is no way I am leaving her."

"That is probably for the best thinking about it, Cedric, she will be quite distraught if she wakes up alone," Albus said.

"If Cedric gets to stay, so I do!" Venres said worriedly.

"She once helped me when I was sick!" Rosier said, one of the Slytherins to follow her up to the Hospital Wing, which also included the Blacks, Rosier, and Riddle. "It's only fair I repay the favour!"

"I held the jumper to her head," Septimus said, his face and robes smeared with her blood. Dumbledore sighed wearily.

"Cedric, as her oldest and dearest friend you may stay here, but if she wakes up surrounded by people it will be overwhelming," he told them. The twins opened their mouths to protest. "Septimus and Venres, you are covered in her blood. I shall inform your teachers you are going to be absent from your lessons today, do us all a favour and go and get cleaned up." The others, -excepting Tom, Alphard and Abraxas, who's good breeding and equanimity prevented such displays of outrage-opened their mouths to protest,

"You may see her in the designated visiting hours, now I will hear no more of it!" Grudgingly, the boys filed out of the infirmary, they were followed lastly by Tom who watched as Cedric sat at her bedside, holding her hand to his lips and murmuring things like. 'Come on Granger' 'Wake up' 'You've been through worse' and 'Don't leave me,' a seemly impassive and calculating glint in his dark eyes, masking his immense fury and the tiny glimmer of guilt which danced like flames within them. With one last look at Hermione he exited the Hospital Wing, pushing the door open with a little too much force so that it banged loudly into the wall.

One thing he asked his followers to do. One little thing and they were completely incompetent.

He did not order for her infirmity, she was the one person he wanted to have a full bill of health, and now he was going to have to sit in a lesson without her whilst the one they were meant to poison sat lamenting at her bedside.

How was he supposed to learn her secrets, coax those details about that photograph from her and possibly most alluring of all… enjoy her company, whilst she was unconscious and green in the Hospital Wing. Tom's hand tightened around his wand within in his pocket.

The Knights were truly going to learn how he dealt with failure to follow his orders today.

Hermione groaned almost inaudibly. Her entire body ached and there was a sharp, stabbing pain in her right arm.

"Hermione?" she heard a voice whisper uncertainly, she knew that voice as well as she knew her own. She could also feel his familiar magic humming comfortingly next to her.

"Yes Cedric," she replied groggily, she felt the pressure increase on her hand, as though he was squeezing it.

"Thank Merlin you are alright," he breathed, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Why, what's wrong with me?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"I don't really know how to tell you this," he said uneasily, Hermione cracked open an eye. Cedric was sat on an uncomfortably wooden chair, his hair uncharacteristically ruffled and his grey eyes shining in the candle light.

"I'm in the Hospital Wing," she stated confusedly. "What time is it?"

"Twenty past six, you are allowed visitors at half past," Cedric replied, Hermione frowned and looked about the room. At the end of her bed was a stack of flowers, chocolates and cards to rival that of which Harry had received after his skirmish with the Philosopher's Stone in first year.

"Why am I here?" she asked, not entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.

"You were poisoned," he told her uncomfortably. "You collapsed in the Great Hall at breakfast, you've broken a few bones, split your head and… you're green."

"Oh it's not my wrist is it?" Hermione asked; scared about how many times a bone could break before it was rendered unfixable. Then her eyes widened as the rest of his sentence sunk in. "What do you mean I am green?" she demanded.

Cedric looked apologetic and conjured a hand mirror. "Your wrist is fine; it's your shoulder and arm. But the poison is stopping the healing potions from working properly." Hermione lifted the mirror to her face and gasped in shock.

"I look like a lime!" she exclaimed. Cedric was spared from having to answer this with gentlemanlike affability by the arrival of Madam Finchley.

"Oh Miss Wembdon my dear, you are awake," she said hurriedly, placing a hand on her wrist to feel her pulse. "You gave me quite the scare."

"I'm going to be alright though, aren't I?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"I expect you shall make a full recovery," she said. "Professor Dumbledore used the floo network to visit St Mungos this morning to ask the healer in chief about your condition, he's awfully worried you see. The general consensus is that you will be fine, but it may take some time."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"The poison shall take some time to leave your system dear, therefore you shall be considerably weakened and… green for a little while," she said gravely. "You shall not be well enough to attend classes for at least a week, it could be a month before you are back on a feet."

"A month," Hermione repeated, eyes wide at the prospect of missing so many hours of precious knowledge. "I am fine surely; I can go back to class tomorrow."

"I will allow nothing of the sort," the nurse said firmly. "Now, you have some visitors outside, shall I send them away or would you like to see them."

"No, no I'd like to see them if that is all right," Hermione said.

"I would like to point out that you are green, and nobody would think any less of you if you wished to… remain discreet shall we say," she said tactfully.

"Oh what's a little green skin between friends," she said dryly.

"I shall send them in one at a time then," with that she left.

"Have you been here all day?" Hermione asked Cedric, he nodded and she noticed he looked particularly weary and his shirt was covered in blood, presumably hers. "Go have some dinner and a shower," she urged him.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Of course I am," she assured him. "You must be exhausted." Cedric nodded and with a parting kiss on the forehead followed Madam Finchley out of the ward. It was a minute or two before the door opened again, but Hermione's bed was facing the other way and she could not see what was happening there.

"What!" she heard one of the Weasley twins shout. "He gets to go first? He's not even her bloody house!"

"Mr Weasley, please lower your voice and mind your language, he is a prefect, you shall wait your turn" Madam Finchley said sternly.

"I held a jumper to her head!" the other twin said angrily. "Does that count for nothing in this place!" But the rest of the argument was hushed from Hermione by the closing of the door.

**Chapter Thirty Seven-Visiting Hours**

Hermione tried to push herself up into a sitting position, drawing breath through her teeth as she put weight on her injured arm and seizing muscles.

"Here, let me help," Tom said, taking her waist and lifting her slightly, so she propped up against her pillows.

"Thank you," Hermione said slowly, something was wrong. But she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"I brought you these," he said uncomfortably, holding out a bunch of flowers.

"They're lovely, thanks," she said clasping the purple flowers in her hands.

"Um, you look… nice green," Tom commented.

"Pardon?"

"What I meant to say was… you suit it," Tom's eyes widened. "That is not what I meant at all, I mean you look surprisingly good green, most people wouldn't able to pull off being green…the…way… you do…" he trailed off, looking resolutely out of the window.

"Thank you?" Hermione said, unsure whether that was a compliment or not.

"You have a lot of well-wishers," Tom commented, trying to change the subject. Hermione nodded. "Malfoy, Rosier, Mulciber, Bulstrode and some others wished to come and pay you their respects but they are otherwise occupied."

"Are they now?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "Detention?" Tom shifted his gaze to her and as she did so it suddenly dawned on her. "Get out," she said in a low, dangerous voice.

"What?"

"Get. Out." Hermione repeated, her eyes narrowed and jaw set. "You have used abhorrent spells recently."

"No I haven't," he denied.

"I can feel it Tom, it hangs in the air, clings to your skin," she said, glowering at him. "Get. Out."

"But I-"

"Leave. Now." He looked as if he was going to protest, but then seemed to change his mind and stormed out of the Hospital Wing, his black robes billowing behind him.

Her other visitors were much more pleasant, though perhaps she could have done without the serenade from the twins armed with a ukulele.

"Miss Wembdon, you should be resting," Finchley reprimanded her. Hermione looked up from the tome on her lap.

"You are stopping me from attending classes please do not stop me from reading as well," she moaned.

"You are not just reading, you are learning and I ordered bed rest," she said, waggling a disapproving finger at her.

"I don't want to get behind!" Hermione insisted, looking pleadingly at the nurse, who sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Very well Miss Wembdon I shall allow you to learn despite my better judgement but maybe you should something a little less… intense. Arithmancy is not the sort of thing you should be doing a day after being poisoned." She held up an alternative book. "Charms? Care of Magical Creatures? Herbology?"

"Speaking of Herbology Madam Finchley, you do know I have a project to be getting on with. A non-taxing, relaxing project in fact, really it's only gardening, and if I'm holed up in here I cannot do it," she said, her eyes wide and beseeching. The nurse seemed to contemplate it for a minute. "I shall let you go and do it in few days if you make me some promises." Hermione nodded. "First you shall tend to only non-magical or immobile plants. Second you shall wrap up warm and be escorted to the greenhouses. Third you shall spend no longer than two hours at time there without a nap in between. Fourth you must sit down often and not overexert yourself. Fifth you shall not continue studying in here after six o'clock or before ten. Sixth you shall not study Arithmancy, Transfiguration or Ancient Runes this week; they are too taxing in your state of health." Hermione sighed.

"Fine," she agreed. "But you won't berate me for learning my other subjects?"

"We have a deal," the witch said with a slight smile as they shook on it. "Now if we are done bargaining you must have a nice long bath, get dressed and make yourself look presentable."

"Why?" Hermione asked with a frown.

"Somebody from the ministry is coming to see you at eleven to try and return you to your normal colour," she said, turning as the door opened. "Ah yes, Claudia has a free lesson and has agreed to escort you and get some of your things from Gryffindor Tower whilst you are bathing."

"Hey Mione," the seventh year prefect said with smile. "I hope you're feeling better." After assuring her that she indeed was, Madam Finchley gave a pile of clean and freshly pressed clothes to Claudia and ushered them both out of the door.

"Madam Finchley seems very fond of you, she must be to call you by your first name" Hermione commented as they walked slowly to the prefect's bathroom.

"Yes, as I am her, I want to be a healer you see and St Mungo's said that they would allow me to do fast-track training if I took on a… sort of apprenticeship with her in sixth and seventh year," she explained. "I help her a lot actually, sometimes brewing some pepper-up potions and things like that."

"Wow I never knew that," she replied. Claudia shrugged.

"What would you like me to retrieve from your dormitory?" Claudia asked.

"Could just bring my trunk please?" Hermione asked. "By the sounds of it I shall be in Hospital Wing for a while."

"Of course I can," Claudia said kindly as they walking to the bathroom. "I'm not terribly sure how we are going to do this though… I'll run the water and you get changed into a robe. I promise not to look," she added with a laugh.

Hermione nodded and did as she was told, taking a white, fluffy dressing gown from the hook near the door.

"Here I'll help you in," Claudia said. "You can take off the wet robe once I've left."

"Thank you so much Claudia, I don't know if I'd be able to do it without you," Hermione said sincerely.

There was a knock on the door of the bathroom.

"Are you done Mione?" came Claudia's call.

"Almost," she replied. "I'm having trouble."

"Are you decent?"

"Um… ish," she replied.

"I'm coming in," she said. Claudia averted her eyes as she helped the scantily clad Hermione into her skirt and blouse. "It's a wonder you managed to get out of the bath and into your underwear, your muscles are shaking horribly." Hermione nodded as she did the up the buttons of her crisp white blouse and tucked it into her blue skirt. "Here sit down. I'll do that," Claudia said, pushing her down into one of the chairs in front of the large mirror and taking the brush from her hand. Hermione mumbled thanks and rested herself. Claudia taking on the role Hermione would imagine a big sister would. To say Hermione was mortified was an understatement.

After Claudia had brushed, dried and pinned Hermione curls carefully into a bun on the back of her head they walked back to the infirmary, the younger girl leaning heavily on the elder.

"Thank you, Claudia, I really do not know what I would have done without you," Hermione said sincerely. "If ever you need anything-"

"Oh shush you," Claudia said batting her hand at Hermione, her short chocolate brown curls bobbing. "You are very welcome; I hope you feel better soon. I have to be getting to Charms."

Hermione was disturbed from her book by the front doors to the infirmary opening and three figures walking in. One of whom she did not recognize, one of whom was Madam Finchley and the last of which was very excited to see her.

"Hermione," the witch said with a broad grin, going over to her armchair which was stood by the open window, looking out over the grounds. "Oh pet, don't you look a picture."

"Nancy!" Hermione exclaimed, kissing her on the cheek in return and closing her book. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"My boss sent me to try and cure your greenness," she said dryly, sitting on the window sill in front of her and surveying her with a furrowed brow. "How did this happen." Before Hermione could answer there was a decided 'ahem.' "How rude of me." Nancy said, rolling her eyes. "Hermione, Harrison Knightchurch. Harrison, Hermione Wembdon. There, all introduced. Now how did this happen?"

"Apparently I was poisoned," she replied. "Dumbledore thinks that it may have been my pumpkin juice at breakfast, but he couldn't check because the house elves had gotten rid of it by the time the thought came to him."

"This is troubling," Nancy said with a frown. "But on the bright side we may have a few spells which will turn you back to a normal colour."

Five spells later Hermione's skin was slowly turning back to a more human colour.

"How does that look?" Nancy asked, holding up a mirror to Hermione's face. "You're a little paler than you were but it's better than green."

"Few days in the sun and nobody will notice a difference," she said with a grin. "Thank you ever so much Nancy."

"So then my boss says to me, not the miner you buffoon, the minor!" Nancy guffawed as the door opened. Hermione laughed heartily along with Nancy at her joke, wiping a tear from her the corner of her eye. Both of them turned to see who had opened the door, Tom stood there.

"I'm sorry if I am interrupting anything," he said cordially.

"Not at all," Nancy answered, raising an eyebrow suggestively at Hermione. "I am just leaving," she said as she rose from the armchair. "Nancy Boardridge, auror department." She extended her hand to Tom.

"Tom Riddle," he said in reply, shaking her hand politely and inclining his head in respect.

"I shall leave you to talk to Hermione in peace, I shall just pop in and see old Cedders before I leave, strapping young man, very good with a wand," she said casting a knowing look toward Hermione, which Tom saw. "Any idea where he will be?" Hermione looked at the clock. "Transfiguration I think."

"Excellent," Nancy said, clapping her hands together. "I'll see you next week Hermione, lovely meeting you Mr Riddle. Dumbledore's classroom still in the same place?

"I believe so, goodbye Nancy, thank you," Hermione called with a smile.

**Chapter Thirty Eight- Principles**

"I've got a copy of my notes from today for you, I thought maybe you would like them," Tom said, holding a small pile of parchment, written his elegant, uniform script.

"Thank you," Hermione said, taking them from him, with an outstretched, shaking hand.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked stiffly.

"No," Hermione answered simply.

"You're not green anymore," he commented.

"Intelligent observation," Hermione said dryly.

"It's good to know the poison didn't strip you of your hilarity," he deadpanned. Hermione struggled not to smile. "Would you like me to explain the notes I took for you?"

"I think I can decipher them myself, thank you. It's not like I haven't got the time on my hands," she said the last sentence with a sigh. "But if you wanted to sit down I wouldn't throw a fit."

"Do you know how long you will be staying here?" Tom asked as he sat down in the chair Nancy had recently vacated.

"Few weeks easily," Hermione said, pulling at the loose threads on the blanket that was draped across her legs. "It's better than St Mungo's I suppose." Tom nodded, his features slightly regretful, of course one would not notice it had they not been especially skilled in the art of body language and looking out for it at that particular moment. Hermione was both.

In fact she was just about to say something about it when the door swung open.

"Hey Granger have you been with Nancy? She just-" his laughter stopped as he set eyes on Tom. "Riddle," he said curtly his smile sliding off his face, before proceeding to ignore him. "Nancy just came to transfiguration… I'll tell you about it later. Do you want anything from Hogsmeade?"

"No, why are you going?" she asked as he perched himself on the arm of her chair.

"Dumbledore wants something picked up from the post office so me and Claudia and I are going," he said. "Are you sure you don't want anything?"

"Quite sure, thank you though," she said.

"I don't believe you," Cedric said with a grin. "You have to want something."

"No, I don't" she said.

"I'll bring you back a bottle of a Butterbeer, a new book and a box of sugar quills anyway shall I?" he proposed with wink. "I know you far too well."

"Thank you," Hermione said with a smile, extremely aware that Cedric was refusing to acknowledge Tom's presence any more than his curt greeting.

"Do you want me to come and see you when I get back this evening?" he asked.

"Oh don't trouble yourself, I will probably have an early night anyway," she said.

"Okay, well goodnight, love," he said, kissing her on the forehead. He got up to leave but before he did a sly smile spread across Hermione's face.

"As you're going to Hogsmeade, maybe you could take out dear Clauds for some wining…dining… maybe a little-"

"Hermione," Cedric interrupted with a mischievous smile. "I would like to point out how hypocritical you sound and I'm not _that_ good at Quidditch.' The smirk fell from Hermione's face. He got in the 'her and Krum in Hogsmeade' dig. With surprising speed and force she hurled the apple core at her side at his face, unfortunately whilst his Quidditch skills were not 'that' good, he was not a seeker for nothing and he ducked just in time.

"And Claudia is not a slutty Ravenclaw, I forget," she said, eyes narrowed. Cedric chuckled and shook his head.

"Low blow, see you in the morning," he said with an over the top grin.

"You're an arse."

"Oh Hermione, you know I love you too," Cedric said, hand to his heart as he backed toward the door.

"Oh bugger off," Hermione laughed as he shut the door

.

"You two have an odd relationship," Tom commented. Hermione jumped slightly, she had almost forgotten he was there.

"Yes I suppose we do," Hermione admitted, somewhat put out. There was a long pause.

"Hermione…" Tom said slowly.

"Yes Tom," she said.

"You and me, what…we sometimes do… do you do that to others?" he asked, slowly and tentatively, looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

"Are you trying to ask me whether I have kissed a boy other than you? I shall have to say yes," Hermione said a slight humorous tone to her voice.

"Since you met me?" an indistinguishable emotion hiding beneath the surface.

"Yes," she said honestly, with a nod, before adding with a slight laugh. "Those Gryffindor parties are crazy." Tom tore his gaze away from her, and looked determinedly at the floor, but Hermione could well see he was slightly dejected. "Tom," Hermione said, bringing his attention back to her. "Since that Hogsmeade trip, when we first kissed, nobody else has kissed me. I promise." Tom nodded his slowly, his shoulders becoming minutely straighter.

"Good," he said impassively, but Hermione knew him better than to believe his tone of voice.

The next day, Tom sat with Hermione in the afternoon, explaining the notes he had taken for her that day, despite the fact it was unnecessary when there was a cautious knock at the door.

"I'm sorry," the blonde said courteously. "I am interrupting something."

"Not at all Malfoy," Tom said with a polite smile. "What is it you need?"

"I was wondering if I might speak to Miss Wembdon," he said, somewhat timidly.

"Be my guest, you will not mind if I take up my book whilst you talk do you?" It was posed as a question, but every party knew Tom was just telling Malfoy how this was going to work. Malfoy nodded and Tom sat down in the armchair, perusing his book interestedly.

"What can I do for you Mr Malfoy?" Hermione asked pleasantly. She knew Malfoy a little from the classes they shared together, for example Potions, he was very different from Lucius and Draco in many ways, he was proud and could be haughty, but he also had a shy streak.

"I was coming to enquire after your health Miss Wembdon, did you get my flowers?" he asked.

"Yes, they were lovely and I am feeling gradually better, thank you ever so much," she replied agreeably.

"Good, good," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Actually I was wondering if I could ask you another question?" Hermione's gaze flickered to Tom for just a second, he was smirking into his book and his eyes were not moving, it was clear he was not reading.

"Fire away."

"I was wondering if… should you be well enough, I mean I hope you are but your health might not be up to it, anyway, if you are feeling better by the last Saturday before the Christmas, if you wanted to go to Slughorn's party… with me," he said hurried, all in one breath. Hermione's eyes again flicked to Tom, who was looking very smug indeed. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he had done, convincing Malfoy to ask Hermione out so that he would make a fool of himself by being shot down because surely Hermione would want to go with him.

'_Conceited prick'_ Hermione thought bitterly, however she a plastered a smile onto her face.

"Thank you for the offer Mr Malfoy…" she watched as his expression got smugger. Now to ruin his fun. "I would be delighted to go to the party with you, I am sure I shall be well enough by then," she said pleasantly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tom's eyes widen, before he recovered himself and his jaw suddenly stiffened.

"Excellent," Malfoy said. "I shall let you get back to your work. Good day Miss Wembdon."

After the door closed behind him Tom slowly lowered his book, his eyes narrowed.

"Can I help you?" Hermione asked, smiling innocently and in a way she knew would be utterly infuriating.

"What was that?" he asked.

"What was what, sorry?" she replied.

"Why did you say yes to Malfoy?" he demanded.

"Because he asked me and it would be awfully rude for me decline when I have no one else to go with," she said, her smile turning into a smirk as her fingers drumming on each arm rest. "I know what kind of games you like to play Tom and I don't like being part of them."

"You're too intelligent for your own good, you know that?" he stated tersely. "You're not going with Malfoy."

"I would beg to differ," she replied.

"No, you're not. Even if he has to contract a deadly disease, break his leg or move to Russia. You are not going with him, do I make myself clear?" His hands were balled into fists, Hermione laughed humourlessly.

"Fine, I shall tell him I can't go with him myself, I'm sure one of the Gryffindors wouldn't mind taking me," she replied venomously. Tom rose from his seat, closing the gap between them with one stride, he placed his hands over her own which were still drumming on the fabric of the chair and leaned in very close to her. Their faces so close she could see the fury burning in his eyes like dancing flames and absence of imperfections in his face; smell his spicy aftershave and feel his hot, angry breath on her face.

"Why can't you just be mine?" he asked through clenched teeth, searching her eyes, Hermione was unsure if he thought he could find an answer there or if he was just trying to make her back down.

"On principle,"she replied strongly, her head held high despite his imposing position and close proximity. "I don't belong to anyone."

**Chapter Thirty Nine- Channelling Draco**

Hermione's heart rose into her throat when she realized what she had just said to the most obsessive and possessive man ever to wield a wand. She could feel it beating erratically, as though it was trying to break free of its prison, she could feel the drumming of her pulse in her ears and most of all, just how close Tom Riddle was to her.

The thought arose in her head that she should push him away, scream and shout and throw things at him. Namely curses of course. That she should tell him that she hated him, for all things he did to her in the future and how he wanted to obtain her now.

However the crashing of his lips to hers was enough to make even the most determined of thoughts very fleeting indeed. Both of them were riled up and livid with one another, but soon became tangled in bruising, heated kissing, the way they should have been engaged in an argument. When they finally broke apart they were still looking at each other with the same unbridled rage, forehead to forehead and panting for breath.

But as they were less than an inch apart Hermione saw his feral gaze gradually soften. With surprising tenderness he gently ran the pad of his thumb across her swollen bottom lip.

"This time I _am_ sorry for kissing you," he whispered, Hermione frowned slightly. "You're trembling." He was right, her muscles were shuddering uncontrollably.

"It's just the poison," Hermione said. Tom nodded slightly, moving his gaze down to her lips through hooded eyes before planting a tender, chaste kiss on them, closing his eyes briefly.

"I should go," he said softly, Hermione looked down at her lap and nodded slightly. With a pained expression he moved away from her.

"Tom," she called after him as he got to the door, he turned. "I will only be yours, if you be mine." He furrowed in brow and looked at her curiously. "Because I won't belong to anyone if they don't belong to me in turn. Goodbye."

Hermione had too much time on her hands, the pile of read books next to her was growing steadily larger, it was about the size of a first year and she'd only been in the infirmary a few days. Admittedly the continuous flow of the younger years who had accidently grown a trunk in Transfiguration or been covered by boils because they had been splashed in Potions was amusing, but there were no patients who had been ordered bed rest like Hermione. She didn't have a problem admitting it, she was lonely. Cedric tried his best to come and visit her, but with Christmas coming up and he being Head Boy, he was in charge of all sort of festivities and therefore couldn't say for long. Tom had stopped visiting her completely and instead sent a first year to deliver her his notes from the lessons she was missing, though she supposed after their last conversation that was to be expected. The Gryffindor and Slytherins came to visit her before dinner often, but they were all caught up in their own world of impeding exams and full timetables so during the day Hermione was left to her books.

It was a good thing she liked books.

After what seemed like a year, but was only a week in the Hospital Wing she was finally approached by Madam Finchley with some good news.

"I have decided that you are well enough to spend an hour or two on your Herbology project if you would like Miss Wembdon," she said, giving her a small, motherly smile. Of course Hermione was eager to leave as soon as possible but the matron insisted on her taking time to wrap up warm and take a whole array of potions.

Finally she was allowed out, though Madam Finchley asserted that they would go down together and she would come back down for Hermione in an hour. As Hermione entered her greenhouse she couldn't help but smile as the rich scent of life growing in the dirt met her nostrils and she was bathed in tropical heat, such a contrast to the bitterly cold day outside. She seated herself in the armchair she had conjured on her very first time in here, there was no need to over exert herself she reasoned, it would only make the school nurse reluctant to let her out again and make herself feel terrible despite the potions she had taken.

Too soon there was a knock on the door.

"Miss Wembdon, your time is up," came the voice of Madam Finchley.

"Just coming," she called, brushing the soil from her hands and stowing the seeds and bulbs she had been using back into her bag. As she was leaving she activated the spell she had been researching whilst cooped up in bed, a complicated growing charm which, with a little luck would speed up the growth of her plants considerably by the next time she came down.

"Good afternoon Granger," Cedric said as he came to visit her. "How are you feeling?"

"Peachy," Hermione responded in a sour tone.

"Good to see you still have your sense of humour," he said, kissing her cheek in greeting. "Do you mind if I look in your bag for a book?"

"Go ahead," Hermione said reaching for her bag and opening the clasp, it was charmed so only she would able to open it.

"Are our biographies still in here?" he asked.

"When were they ever in there?" Hermione demanded, Cedric sent her a smirk. "Cedric Jasper! You know how dangerous that is! Should they fall into the wrong hands-"

"Relax!" he responded, holding up his hands. "They are in _the_ bag. No one can get inside _the_ bag. Beside I don't know why you're so upset with me; I thought yours was rather flattering."

"You have mine in there!" she exclaimed. "You bought one in the first place?"

"Of course I did, it was hilarious!" he said defensively. "And very informative… had some wonderful photographs, don't know she got some of them."

"Rita Skeeter is an atrocious, vile. ridiculous excuse for a witch that is why," Hermione hissed.

"Well then you're lucky she was afraid of you then aren't you?" he said happily. "I was actually looking for that book on vampires you had, ah here it is," he said, extracting the midnight blue book from the bag. "Excellent."

"Fancy seeing you here," Hermione said dryly. Tom turned, he had not heard her approach him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, holding the lantern higher. "You're meant to be in the Hospital Wing, not on prefect duty."

"I was bored and where does one like myself go when that happens, the library," she replied sardonically. "I have run out of books."

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"It's been a month and I'm going back to lessons on Monday," she said, running her fingers over the spines of the books.

"But are you feeling well enough?" he asked.

"I was feeling well enough the day after it happened," she replied flippantly. "Whether I am feeling much better now than I was then is neither here nor there." Tom sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"What?" she asked, spinning around on the spot, and surveying the Slytherin, only illuminated by the lantern he held. "What do you mean you're sorry?" Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

"I mean… you know, I'm sorry that it happened to you," he said quickly.

"Are you lying to me?" Hermione asked. "You're never sorry unless you regret something which was your own fault… you regard the work of anybody else with sarcasm."

"No."

"Yes you are," she insisted. "Tom did you poison me?"

"No."

"I can tell when you lie to me Tom Riddle, did you poison me?" she asked again, through gritted teeth.

"I didn't poison you," he said.

"Then what do you know about it," she asked, seething with anger. "Did you give an order for me to be poisoned?"

"No, no I would never do that to you," Tom said shaking his head.

"You meant for someone else to be poisoned didn't you?" Hermione asked, realization suddenly dawning upon her. Tom stayed silent. "Who?" she asked, dangerously quietly…like the calm before the storm. No reply. "Who was it?" she demanded.

"You have to understand that I didn't mean for you to get poisoned, or to be poisoned that badly. It was others' incompetency that made that happen," he tried to explain.

"Who were trying to poison?" Hermione repeated.

"Cedric Amos," he said softly.

Tom had never seen such fury in anyone before; her eyes were burning into his, her face set in an expression of deepest contempt. He could almost feel the fire of emotion blazing within her.

"You mean to tell me," she said, her voice seemingly calm, anyone who knew her would know that a calm Hermione in this situation was very bad news indeed. "That you poisoned me, humiliated me in front of the whole school and locked me up in the hospital wing away from all my friends a month, feeling like hell and in a state where I had to sleep half of the time, my body would not responding to what my brain was telling it. Only to keep it from me and then eventually try and make it all better once I found out by saying that you meant it to happen to the one person I care most about and you expect me to be fine with this? Like it would make it all better!" Her tone slowly got angrier as she spoke until she almost shouted the last few words at him. He didn't say anything.

Despite the fact that Hermione was a witch, despite the fact she had a wand on her which she could have inflicted some serious damage with, she disregarded those things in her favour.

Tom recoiled as her fist collided with his jaw with surprising force and conviction. His hand flew to his mouth where a small trickle of blood started to appear.

"Did you just punch me?" he asked in disbelief. "I think you cracked a tooth.

"Good," she spat, before storming off.

Hermione hadn't changed that much since third year obviously… although Draco Malfoy had never actually succeeded in poisoning her. But then again… Tom didn't cry after she punched him…

**Chapter Thirty Nine- Channelling Draco**

Hermione's heart rose into her throat when she realized what she had just said to the most obsessive and possessive man ever to wield a wand. She could feel it beating erratically, as though it was trying to break free of its prison, she could feel the drumming of her pulse in her ears and most of all, just how close Tom Riddle was to her.

The thought arose in her head that she should push him away, scream and shout and throw things at him. Namely curses of course. That she should tell him that she hated him, for all things he did to her in the future and how he wanted to obtain her now.

However the crashing of his lips to hers was enough to make even the most determined of thoughts very fleeting indeed. Both of them were riled up and livid with one another, but soon became tangled in bruising, heated kissing, the way they should have been engaged in an argument. When they finally broke apart they were still looking at each other with the same unbridled rage, forehead to forehead and panting for breath.

But as they were less than an inch apart Hermione saw his feral gaze gradually soften. With surprising tenderness he gently ran the pad of his thumb across her swollen bottom lip.

"This time I _am_ sorry for kissing you," he whispered, Hermione frowned slightly. "You're trembling." He was right, her muscles were shuddering uncontrollably.

"It's just the poison," Hermione said. Tom nodded slightly, moving his gaze down to her lips through hooded eyes before planting a tender, chaste kiss on them, closing his eyes briefly.

"I should go," he said softly, Hermione looked down at her lap and nodded slightly. With a pained expression he moved away from her.

"Tom," she called after him as he got to the door, he turned. "I will only be yours, if you be mine." He furrowed in brow and looked at her curiously. "Because I won't belong to anyone if they don't belong to me in turn. Goodbye."

Hermione had too much time on her hands, the pile of read books next to her was growing steadily larger, it was about the size of a first year and she'd only been in the infirmary a few days. Admittedly the continuous flow of the younger years who had accidently grown a trunk in Transfiguration or been covered by boils because they had been splashed in Potions was amusing, but there were no patients who had been ordered bed rest like Hermione. She didn't have a problem admitting it, she was lonely. Cedric tried his best to come and visit her, but with Christmas coming up and he being Head Boy, he was in charge of all sort of festivities and therefore couldn't say for long. Tom had stopped visiting her completely and instead sent a first year to deliver her his notes from the lessons she was missing, though she supposed after their last conversation that was to be expected. The Gryffindor and Slytherins came to visit her before dinner often, but they were all caught up in their own world of impeding exams and full timetables so during the day Hermione was left to her books.

It was a good thing she liked books.

After what seemed like a year, but was only a week in the Hospital Wing she was finally approached by Madam Finchley with some good news.

"I have decided that you are well enough to spend an hour or two on your Herbology project if you would like Miss Wembdon," she said, giving her a small, motherly smile. Of course Hermione was eager to leave as soon as possible but the matron insisted on her taking time to wrap up warm and take a whole array of potions.

Finally she was allowed out, though Madam Finchley asserted that they would go down together and she would come back down for Hermione in an hour. As Hermione entered her greenhouse she couldn't help but smile as the rich scent of life growing in the dirt met her nostrils and she was bathed in tropical heat, such a contrast to the bitterly cold day outside. She seated herself in the armchair she had conjured on her very first time in here, there was no need to over exert herself she reasoned, it would only make the school nurse reluctant to let her out again and make herself feel terrible despite the potions she had taken.

Too soon there was a knock on the door.

"Miss Wembdon, your time is up," came the voice of Madam Finchley.

"Just coming," she called, brushing the soil from her hands and stowing the seeds and bulbs she had been using back into her bag. As she was leaving she activated the spell she had been researching whilst cooped up in bed, a complicated growing charm which, with a little luck would speed up the growth of her plants considerably by the next time she came down.

"Good afternoon Granger," Cedric said as he came to visit her. "How are you feeling?"

"Peachy," Hermione responded in a sour tone.

"Good to see you still have your sense of humour," he said, kissing her cheek in greeting. "Do you mind if I look in your bag for a book?"

"Go ahead," Hermione said reaching for her bag and opening the clasp, it was charmed so only she would able to open it.

"Are our biographies still in here?" he asked.

"When were they ever in there?" Hermione demanded, Cedric sent her a smirk. "Cedric Jasper! You know how dangerous that is! Should they fall into the wrong hands-"

"Relax!" he responded, holding up his hands. "They are in _the_ bag. No one can get inside _the_ bag. Beside I don't know why you're so upset with me; I thought yours was rather flattering."

"You have mine in there!" she exclaimed. "You bought one in the first place?"

"Of course I did, it was hilarious!" he said defensively. "And very informative… had some wonderful photographs, don't know she got some of them."

"Rita Skeeter is an atrocious, vile. ridiculous excuse for a witch that is why," Hermione hissed.

"Well then you're lucky she was afraid of you then aren't you?" he said happily. "I was actually looking for that book on vampires you had, ah here it is," he said, extracting the midnight blue book from the bag. "Excellent."

"Fancy seeing you here," Hermione said dryly. Tom turned, he had not heard her approach him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, holding the lantern higher. "You're meant to be in the Hospital Wing, not on prefect duty."

"I was bored and where does one like myself go when that happens, the library," she replied sardonically. "I have run out of books."

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"It's been a month and I'm going back to lessons on Monday," she said, running her fingers over the spines of the books.

"But are you feeling well enough?" he asked.

"I was feeling well enough the day after it happened," she replied flippantly. "Whether I am feeling much better now than I was then is neither here nor there." Tom sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"What?" she asked, spinning around on the spot, and surveying the Slytherin, only illuminated by the lantern he held. "What do you mean you're sorry?" Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

"I mean… you know, I'm sorry that it happened to you," he said quickly.

"Are you lying to me?" Hermione asked. "You're never sorry unless you regret something which was your own fault… you regard the work of anybody else with sarcasm."

"No."

"Yes you are," she insisted. "Tom did you poison me?"

"No."

"I can tell when you lie to me Tom Riddle, did you poison me?" she asked again, through gritted teeth.

"I didn't poison you," he said.

"Then what do you know about it," she asked, seething with anger. "Did you give an order for me to be poisoned?"

"No, no I would never do that to you," Tom said shaking his head.

"You meant for someone else to be poisoned didn't you?" Hermione asked, realization suddenly dawning upon her. Tom stayed silent. "Who?" she asked, dangerously quietly…like the calm before the storm. No reply. "Who was it?" she demanded.

"You have to understand that I didn't mean for you to get poisoned, or to be poisoned that badly. It was others' incompetency that made that happen," he tried to explain.

"Who were trying to poison?" Hermione repeated.

"Cedric Amos," he said softly.

Tom had never seen such fury in anyone before; her eyes were burning into his, her face set in an expression of deepest contempt. He could almost feel the fire of emotion blazing within her.

"You mean to tell me," she said, her voice seemingly calm, anyone who knew her would know that a calm Hermione in this situation was very bad news indeed. "That you poisoned me, humiliated me in front of the whole school and locked me up in the hospital wing away from all my friends a month, feeling like hell and in a state where I had to sleep half of the time, my body would not responding to what my brain was telling it. Only to keep it from me and then eventually try and make it all better once I found out by saying that you meant it to happen to the one person I care most about and you expect me to be fine with this? Like it would make it all better!" Her tone slowly got angrier as she spoke until she almost shouted the last few words at him. He didn't say anything.

Despite the fact that Hermione was a witch, despite the fact she had a wand on her which she could have inflicted some serious damage with, she disregarded those things in her favour.

Tom recoiled as her fist collided with his jaw with surprising force and conviction. His hand flew to his mouth where a small trickle of blood started to appear.

"Did you just punch me?" he asked in disbelief. "I think you cracked a tooth.

"Good," she spat, before storming off.

Hermione hadn't changed that much since third year obviously… although Draco Malfoy had never actually succeeded in poisoning her. But then again… Tom didn't cry after she punched him…


	5. Chapters 41 to 50

**Chapter Forty One- Clemency for a Criminal**

"Oh good you have your cloak on already." Hermione frowned in confusion, spinning round to see Tom sauntering casually up behind her.

"Excuse me?" she asked acidly, folding her arms and glaring.

"You've got your cloak on, ready to go to Hogsmeade," he replied, an arrogant grin lighting up his dark eyes.

"I'm not going to Hogsmeade, I'm not well," she replied indignantly, adding a sarcastic cough for good measure and raising her chin defiantly.

"Yes you are," he replied.

"I thought I made it perfectly clear that-"

"Hermione," he interrupted. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either of which will end up with you being in Hogsmeade by lunchtime, so can we please just save on the dramatics."

"What if I don't want to," she retorted.

"You already said you would, I would hate for you to go back on your word," he replied, with a smirk.

"That was before you poisoned me," she said breezily. "Besides everyone will be pointing at me and coming up and asking if I am okay and I would really rather not go through that."

"Then cast a not notice me charm," he sighed.

"Yes, I'm likely to go Hogsmeade under that kind of charm with the man who poisoned me, smart move," she spat.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, here," he groaned, thrusting his wand into her hands. "Have it until we get back."

"You're giving me your wand?" she asked, in disbelief.

"Yes, now there is no reason you can't come to Hogsmeade with me, even without a wand I'll take excellent care of you," his smirk widened, Hermione rolled her eyes and pocketed his wand.

"I am going to keep this though," she asserted, Tom shrugged his shoulders slightly as she put the not notice me charm on herself.

"If you wouldn't mind putting it on me as well, I think this could be the one Hogsmeade visit I will avoid the straightjacket for talking to people who others can't see," he jested. Hermione seemed to contemplate it for a while. "Hermione," he warned.

"Fine," she said grouchily, tapping her wand on the top of his head.

"Why thank you," he said, snaking an arm round her waist.

"You do not have permission to touch me," Hermione deadpanned.

"I said I'd take good care of you, we wouldn't want you fainting and hitting your head," he replied smoothly. "You're welcome to put your arm around me as well," he said with a wink.

"I really don't want to," she replied tersely.

"That hurts Hermione, you could at least humour me," he replied, a conceited smirk still plastered his face.

"This really isn't helping your case," she spat, arms crossed. Tom just laughed and steered her down the corridor.

"Oh hello dears… I didn't notice you there… thought I heard the bell… come in come in, it's blowing a terrible gale out there isn't it, what can I get you?" the plump owner of the shop asked as she bustled around Tom and Hermione's favourite tea shop. After ordering drinks and hanging their wet cloaks on a stand to the side of the fireplace they sat down on a sofa directly in front of it and sipped their tea.

It took two large cups of tea before Hermione was in a good enough mood to allow Tom to put his arm behind her on the sofa, and another two, a shared slice of cake and conversation about Arithmancy laws before he was allowed to put it around her.

"It's really bad weather out there," Hermione said, lifting her head off his shoulder to look out the window. The sky had gone dark, the trees were bent almost double under the strain of the wind and the rain was pounding down in diagonal sheets.

"It's a good thing we're in here then isn't it?" Tom said, a small smile playing about his lips as he watched her, watching the rain and pulling her slightly closer to him.

"I suppose it is," Hermione said, draining the last of her tea from her cup. Tom took the empty cup from her hand and set it down gently on the table before entwining the fingers of her newly vacated hand within his own.

"Hermione I need you to know how sorry I am," he said earnestly, his eyes searching hers. Hermione felt reassured by the weight of his wand in her pocket, he trusted her with it. That probably meant he was meaning what he was saying. "I don't usually apologize, but I swear to you I never meant for it to happen. I didn't even think they would actually do it."

"And you won't do it again?" she asked, her eyes wide. "To anybody or anything."

"Never," he said quickly before adding in a hushed tone. "I won't even think about a bottle of… that again."

"Thank you," she said looking down, squeezing his hand a little.

"You've got to know Hermione; you were the last person I would have wanted to get hurt. Not you. Never _you,_" he whispered, Hermione's gaze rose and she could see the honesty shining from his dark eyes, she nodded slightly. He then pulled her in toward him, closing the final piece of space between them and planted a single, sweet kiss on her lips before resting his chin on the top of her head as she tucked into his side, leaning once again on his shoulder. They were both brought out of the moment they were sharing by the tinkle of the bell at the front of the shop. Both of them looked around to see who they would be sharing the teashop with …except from the elderly warlock who was fast asleep in the corner already of course. To their horror it was five windswept Gryffindors. Tom and Hermione froze, they knew that their eyes would just glance across them, not noticing them if they did not draw attention to themselves, such was the nature of the charm. As Cedric, Venres, Theo, Robert and Claudia ordered their drinks Tom jerked his head toward their cloaks, they silently rose from the sofa and slipped on their heavy, black cloaks which had been toasted by the fire, pulling their hoods up so they wouldn't become soaked as soon as they stepped outside. They crept hand in hand to the door, which posed a problem; they couldn't open it without drawing attention to themselves.

Hermione extracted a large, gold galleon from her pocked and wedged it slightly under the door. They waited with baited breath until one the Gryffindors saw it.

"A galleon, it's my lucky day," Claudia said cheerfully, opening the door slightly to pick up the coin, as she retreated, examining the coin, the door started to swing closed once again. Hermione forcefully kicked it open again with a bang and the two of them slipped out.

"Woah, the wind almost ripped the bloody door off," they heard Theo shout from inside. They both smiled at each other and pulled their cloaks tighter around themselves, trying to shield themselves from the battering they were getting from the rain. As they walked along the cobbled path through Hogsmeade, Hermione tried to discern what Tom was trying to say to her, she couldn't hear because the immense sound of wind and rain around them.

"What?" she shouted, inaudible above the din. Tom smiled and shook his head, as he did a gust of wind blew his hood back, he recoiled as his head was exposed to the severity of the weather. Within that few seconds his hair managed to become completely soaked, there was no point putting it back up. Hermione laughed as she saw his revulsion and shivered slightly as a particularly icy gust of wind blew again, on seeing this Tom pulled her into him by the hand, wrapping her up also in his thick black cloak, pressed her up against him. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he bent down to kiss her, his arms around her shoulder blades, still holding the cloak around her. Unfortunately he was such a good kisser that Hermione didn't notice he had sneakily pulled her own hood down, until it was much too late. Payback for laughing. She pulled away from him and elbowed him in the stomach, of course not hard enough to make him even wince. He just smirked wickedly down at her; Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped up on her tiptoes to press their lips together once again.

Rule one of revenge: instil a false sense of security in your victim.

As he started to return her kiss Hermione slid her hands up his chest, seeming as though to wind her arms around his neck as usual but instead continued and ruffled his usually immaculate –even when wet- hair so it stuck up at odd angles. Before he realized what she had done, she ducked out of his embrace and ran laughing from his grip. Of course it didn't take him long to catch up, he was very much faster than her, wrapping his arms around a struggling Hermione he swept her into a deep doorway and out of the wind. He span her round and put his mouth to her ear.

"I think you should probably sort out my hair," he said, trying to stop himself from grinning, as he held Hermione close to him. She laughed and pulled her arms out from where they were pinned at her sides, first running her fingers through and then smoothing his damp hair before resting them on his shoulders. "I think since you deliberately messed up something so _obviously_ important to me, you should give me a kiss," he said in a low voice, his lips brushing her ear and sending shivers down her spine. She pursed her lips and shook her head. "Not just one?" she shook her head again. "Am I going to have to steal one?" he asked her, now not even trying to control his grin. Hermione's expression didn't change but she nodded, the same teasing expression and happy glimmer in her eyes.

"One wand," Hermione said handing the piece of wood back to Tom as they entered the main doors of the castle.

"Thank you," he said politely, pocketing it. "Aren't you glad you came to Hogsmeade now?"

"No, I had a horrible time," she replied sarcastically, tapping him on the head to remove her spell.

"Ah Mr Riddle!" Tom spun round, dropping Hermione's hand. Luckily Slughorn hadn't seen him talking to someone and Hermione remained 'unnoticed', as he had just entered the Entrance Hall. "Get caught in the storm m'boy?" he asked with a chuckle. "Come, come I have a potion which will stop you from getting a chill! We must have a discussion about the Christmas decorations in the dungeons." With one last look back at Hermione, who had her hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her giggles; Tom was ushered away by Slughorn. She was extremely pleased she had taken the spell off Tom first or she would be in his office talking about good knows what rubbish. Finally stifling her laughter she started toward the prefect bathroom, very much looking forward to a nice long soak in the tub, with her favourite sea foam green froth from the tap on the far right.

**Chapter Forty Two- The Dark Lord's Bathing Issues**

After an hour and a half of hot water, scented bubble bath and fluffy white towels, Hermione finally left the bathroom, perfectly clean and warm. Her hair hanging in soft freshly washed waves around her shoulders.

"Trust you to be the one hogging the bloody bathroom," Tom said slightly irately, he had been waiting in the corridor.

"I've used up all the hot water," she deadpanned.

"I've read Hogwarts: A History, Hermione," he retorted with a smirk. "Try it on someone less educated." Hermione smiled slightly.

"Well… have a nice bath then," she said awkwardly.

"Since there is nobody here, and you took so long," he said huskily, quickly glancing down the deserted corridor. "It's only fair I get a kiss goodbye."

"I don't think that's very fair," she replied, trying to smirk.

"Life's not fair," he murmured, crushing his lips to hers. He didn't notice her pointing her wand behind her back.

"Hey Mione," chorused her friends when she entered Gryffindor common room.

"Hello," she replied cheerily, settling herself in the armchair they had saved for her, pushed nearer to the fire in case she felt cold.

"What did you end up doing today?" Venres asked sleepily, his face squashed against the arm of the sofa.

"Nothing thrilling, I had a lovely bath though, with the greeny foam stuff," she said. Not a complete lie.

"The greeny foam stuff?" Claudia scoffed. "Please! The huge purple bubbles are the best!"

"Just rub it in why don't you?" Venres said, yawning as he did. "In the bathroom we get to use in our dorm we have water taps and half a grimy bottle of the shower gel Theo's mum sent him for his birthday."

"It's mango," Robert chirped just as the portrait hole opened and Cedric came through.

"Afternoon," he said grumpily. Claudia lifted her feet because she was stretched out on the sofa, so Cedric could sit down, putting them back into his lap when he had.

"What's got your knickers in a twist Cedders?" Septimus asked, looking up from his game of wizard's chess with Robert.

"Slughorn."

"You'd think after all this time Sluggy would have become accustomed to putting Ceddy's underwear back on the way he found them, untidy bugger," Venres laughed, winking outrageously at Cedric, who threw a book at his head causing the others to laugh at them both.

"We do not throw books!" Hermione said angrily, snatching the book from the boys and pressing it to her chest, causing all the others to laugh even harder than they did at Venres' comment.

"Okay, seriously," he said eventually. "What's Slughorn gone and done now?"

"He accosted me in the Entrance Hall and I had to discuss Christmas decorations with him and Riddle, for a good half hour. He's given me the job of decorating the trees. There's got to be fifty of the damn things round the castle," he moaned.

"Unlucky mate," Septimus said sympathetically. "You could always go and bribe some house elves to it for you." Hermione's eyes narrowed, but she was interrupted before she could make a comment.

"Miss Wembdon," a little blonde, first year boy said shyly, Hermione turned her attention to him. "T… Tom Riddle is outside and he says he wants a word… urgently."

"Tell him to go and-" Venres started before Claudia clamped her hand to his mouth.

"Not in front of first years!" she reprimanded.

"You have no idea what I was going to say!" he tried to defend himself.

"Let me guess, it rhymes with 'chuck himself'" she predicted with a glare.

"Well it did, but that could have applied to a whole array of different phrases," he derided.

"Such as?" Claudia asked, her arms crossed.

"Duck himself… buck himself… fu-"he was interrupted again by Claudia's hand.

"If you don't shut up Weasley I will curse your mouth closed, comprende señor?" He nodded, still muted by her hand. "Excelente."

"Clauds, why are you speaking Spanish?" Cedric asked.

"Porque voy a España con mis padres para Navidad," she answered.

"What did you just say?" Septimus asked, his nose wrinkled -as it had a tendency to do when he was confused.

"She said that she is going to Spain with her parents for Christmas," Hermione said.

"I didn't know you two speak Spanish," Venres said, impressed. Hermione shrugged slightly.

"Hermione, ahora podemos hablar sobre el chicos a pesar de el hecho que están aqui," she said, with a sly smile.

"What did she say?" Septimus demanded childishly.

"Now we can talk about the boys despite the fact they are here," Hermione told him, smiling at how agitated they were getting.

"As thrilling as this is, snake boy is still outside do you want me to get rid of him Mione?" Venres asked.

"No, I know what this is about, I'll be back in a tick," she said, rising from her chair.

"El es una serpiente sucia, rápido mi amiga guapa, rápido," Claudia called dramatically after her.  
_He is a dirty snake, quick my beautiful friend, quick._

"Por su puesto, soy rápido siempre," _of course, I'm always quick. S_he shouted back as she climbed through the portrait hole.

"Not something to brag about," Tom drawled, making her jump. He was stood leaning casually against the wall, glaring slightly.

"Not funny," she retorted. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"Evidently. But I shall admit that is about the extent of my knowledge of the language," he said briskly. "Now what did you do to the bath."

"I don't know what you mean," Hermione said sedately.

"You know exactly what I mean, now what did you do to make the bath run cold," he asked, his tone flat.

"I didn't, maybe I used up all of the hot water," she said sarcastically.

"Hermione," he warned.

"Simple spell," she said with a shrug.

"Then why couldn't I remove it?" he asked.

"Because I am very good at magic," she said with a smile.

"How do I get the hot water back," he asked through gritted teeth.

"It's already back, the spell stops when you leave the room, better hope no one else has slipped in whilst you've been out here," she said brightly. His eyes narrowed more and he took a deep breath.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, his voice was strained.

"Just because I have stopped being openly hostile doesn't mean I've entirely stopped being angry at you. I find pleasure in irritating you from a distance."

"You're infuriating," he said, his voice level.

"Thank you," she said, beaming. "Have a nice bath."

"Try not to think of me naked too much," he replied, an arrogant smirk curling his lips. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Try not to get stage fright because you know that I know that you're going to be naked," she replied, smirking herself.

"One; I do not know what you are insinuating and two; it is not a certain thing that I shall be, when you think I will be-"

"Funny, you never struck me as the swimming trunks in the bath kind of guy… interesting." The smirk slid off his face.

"That is nothing like what I said," he said.

"Don't worry Tom, I won't tell anyone," she said climbing back through the portrait hole. "Have fun though! Maybe you can wear the red ones, with lions on. I know they're your favourite."

With a wink she swung the portrait shut again.

**(A/N Sorry for the Spanish parts, I feel as though I am revising if I write them :-D )**

**Chapter Forty Three- Just a Crazy Muggle Game**

Hermione played with the charms on her necklace, running them through her fingers, they were warm to touch, warmer than they should have been. She was sat on top of the astronomy tower, thinking, reminiscing. She slowly brought her wand up to one of the pewter dragons, twisting her wand so a long thin winding thread of silver light was pulled from it. Putting her wand up to her head she closed her eyes and watched the memory like a scene from a muggle film.

"_Granger," Cedric called through the crowd of Weasleys and other Order members, they were at The Burrow. Just having come back from their first big mission together, he had a scratch down his face and she a sling on her arm but other than that it was a huge success._

"_Evening Diggory," she said with a smile, playing her hand against George Weasley. _

"_I was wondering if I could have a word, once you're done with exploding snap," he asked, slightly uncomfortably, they did not know one another that well yet._

"_Of course," she said, standing up and passing her hand to Neville who was watching intently. She brushed the cake crumbs off her knees and joined Cedric in walking outside in the pleasantly cool night air. They slowly strolled around the perimeter of the house, there was music coming from the wizarding wireless masking the sounds of scurrying gnomes and the garden was illuminated by the glow from the windows._

"_What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Hermione asked as they sat on a bench underneath Ginny's window._

"_I wanted to say how good you were today and how lucky I am to have a partner as good as you are, I think we'll make a really good team," he said, rubbing his arms nervously._

"_Um, thank you, you were very good also," she replied._

"_Anyway, I think that as we're working together in the Order we should become friends… I mean I don't mean we're not friends now but good friends, you know? Because we're partners now. You see Harry and Ron, Ginny and Luna, Fred and George. They all have really strong relationships and I feel that if we could become really good friends we could become even better partners," he rushed._

"_I agree," Hermione said, nodding fervently._

"_Good," he said, exhaling in relief. "Anyway, I wanted to give you this." Hermione could feel the weight of what he dropped in her hand but could not see it, it was too dark. "It's the model of my dragon from the Triwizard tournament, I know you have Harry and Viktor's, I thought that it was kind of an offering… showing that I wanted to be as good a friend to you as they are."_

"_That is so sweet Cedric, thank you," she said pulling him into an awkward one-armed hug. "I think if we work hard we can one up Harry and Ron."_

"_When we one up Kingsley and Tonks, I'll be happy," he laughed._

"_Well you might have to wait a little while until we one up two aurors, but we'll get there!"_

Hermione mind came back into focus and she was once again watching the chilly sunset of 1943. Looking down at her necklace again she toyed with the charms. Each had memories locked inside it, there was a charm from many of her closest friends and each had memories about that person in.

A dragon from Harry, Viktor, Cedric and Fleur, her parent's engagement ring, her own engagement ring, a radish from Luna and Neville, a lion with ruby red eyes from the Weasleys. Slowly she pointed her wand at her mother's ring and a memory it contained wash over her.

_She was sat in her childhood home, in the kitchen. The walls were painted what the local DIY shop called, 'buttermilk', on the walls were photographs of herself, an only child and doted upon by her parents, various awards for excellence in dentistry and watercolour landscapes her mother had painted when she was a student and trying to make enough money to set up her own dental practice once she had left university._

"_Hermione dear," her mother said, passing her a large, steaming mug of tea and sitting down next to her at the pine table. "I want you to have something." She pulled the rings on her ring finger off and replaced only one, passing a silver band with ornate diamonds embellishing it. "I want you to have this."_

"_Mum?" Hermione asked, grasping the hand of her watery eyed mother._

"_I want you to have my engagement ring, for when you marry Oliver," she said, sniffing back her tears. "You know I'm so proud of you and if you want it, don't feel you have to but if you want it, it's yours, as your wedding ring."_

"_Mum… don't you want it?" she asked, in disbelief, staring at the beautiful ring in her palm. When she was little girl, with bushy hair and wide, adoring eyes, she begged and begged her mother on a daily basis to waggle her fingers in the light so she could see it glimmer and cast shapes on the walls. Sometimes, she had let her try it on, of course then it was always far too big for her. It was the most beautiful ring she had ever set eyes on._

"_It was my mother's before it was my own, I want you to have it," she said._

"_Oh Mum," she said, pulling her into a teary embrace. When they withdrew, both wiping their eyes Jeanne Granger looked at her daughter very seriously._

"_I'm so proud of you Hermione. You know that don't you?" Hermione nodded mutely. "I'm proud of everything you do, despite the fact that I can't understand most of it. I always knew, right from when you were a little girl you were magical… I just didn't know in quite what way that was true. But I knew. Oliver is lovely boy; your dad is very fond of him." Hermione nodded, the two men were out 'bonding' at the moment, her father was taking him to his first muggle football match. "Oh Hermione," her mother sighed, placing a tender hand on her daughter's cheek. "It's so strange to see you all grown up, sometimes I can't help but wish you were still a little girl." Then her mother laughed a little, her almost musical laugh. "I take that back, it's embarrassing losing to a seven year old at scrabble, now it's not so bad." Hermione smiled appreciatively and felt tears welling up in her eyes._

"_Mum, you do know that I love you don't you? You may not be part of… my other world. But you were always there for me throughout everything and I don't know what I would have done without you. I still don't. I wish every day that could be part of my… more everyday life," she said._

"_Of course I know sweetie, I love you too, very, very much. Besides, you're a saviour of the magical and non-magical world, I know most of the things you've done and as I said I'm oh so proud," she said._

"_You know?" she asked._

"_Of course, Oliver gave me and your father a copy of your biography," she said, beaming at her daughter. "You're so brave and intelligent." She kissed her on the forehead._

"_He is in so much trouble," Hermione said through gritted teeth._

"_Don't be hard on him, the chapter on him was lovely don't you think, you could have that as part of the service at your wedding!" she teased. Hermione buried her face in her hands. "I'm joking, I'm joking. I know you only announced your engagement a fortnight ago!" There was the sound of the door opening coming from the front of the house. "Ah… they're back."_

"_Hello, hello," Dr Granger said, walking into the room, ruffling his daughters hair and kissing his wife's cheek._

"_Did you have a nice time, dear?" her mother asked._

"_Yes, absolute corker," he said gleefully. "We won, five to one." Hermione smiled as Oliver slipped into the kitche too, he broke out into a grin at the sight of her._

"_Afternoon," he said, planting a chaste kiss on her lips and dropping into the chair next to her. "Have you ever seen 'football'… muggles come up with some crazy stuff," he said under his breath. Hermione laughed quietly rolling her eyes._

"_Did you have a nice time?" she asked, entwining their fingers together._

"_Of course I did, how could have spent the day with someone of Granger blood and not?" he asked, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. "Are you ready to go? I for one need to get changed and shower before dinner."_

"_Yes, I am, we better not keep Mr and Mrs Weasley waiting," she said, saying their names slowly, her eyes twinkling with amusement._

"_Yeah Fleur would throw a fit, have you got keys on you? I think I have lost mine," Oliver said._

"_You haven't, you left them in a pair of jeans which I found when I was washing them and if you remember I said, Oliver I have found your keys I'll put them on the mantelpiece," Hermione said with a small smile. He frowned in confusion._

"_Where was I during this conversation?" he asked._

"_Reading a Quidditch magazine, no wonder nothing went in," Hermione said fondly, tapping his forehead. Oliver shrugged good naturedly._

"_Sorry, you can hit me next time," he said, slightly embarrassedly._

"_If I didn't love you, I might just consider that," Hermione laughed._

"_To be fair it's not my fault, Quidditch only engrosses me so much because it is angry about only being the second love of my life," he said, beaming and banging their noses together playfully._

"_Oh get out the two of you," Hermione's mother laughed, looking with motherly pride at her daughter's relationship. "Take your soppy romance out of my kitchen and go and dine with the Potters."_

Hermione's vision swum back to the present, her eyes stung with tears and she was shaking slightly. Putting down her wand and tucking the necklace back inside her jumper she hugged her knees and let the silent tears slide down her cheeks.

Three weeks after that conversation her parents were killed by death eaters.

Three months later Oliver was dead as well.

Hermione jumped as the door creaked open, trying to brush away the moisture from her cheeks.

"I knew you'd be up here," Cedric said dropping down beside her.

"How?"

"It's either because I know you really well and that I had a hunch because you're my best friend and I know what you're like… or I looked on the Marauder's Map. One of the two," he said with a shrug. "Now what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I was just thinking."

"I know that look," he said pointing at her eyes and putting a supportive arm round her shoulders. "What have you been thinking about?" Hermione looked at the floor and bit her lip.

"My parents… Oliver," she admitted in a murmur, Cedric squeezed her tighter.

"Oh Hermione," he said sadly, brushing her hair out of her face. The door banged open again.

"Oh, I see I'm interrupting the support group," Tom jeered, stepping onto the platform.

"What did you just say?" Cedric asked through gritted teeth.

"Ced, leave it," Hermione said quickly, gripping his arm. He shot her a deliberating look, but did not move. Tom smirked as the door opened once again. His sneer soon falling from his face.

"Ah… a meeting of the knitting club I see," Dumbledore said clapping his hands together. Hermione and Cedric laughed slightly at this, but Tom just scowled. "I was not the first to have the idea of watching the sunset from the tower it seems." He gazed round at them, a cheerful smile on his face. "Hermione is something the matter."

"No, no nothing," she said hurriedly, but Cedric was not having it.

"She's being thinking about Oliver, again," he told the professor gravely.

"No wonder you're looking a bit peaky Hermione dear," he said sympathetically, frowning slightly. "You should block those thoughts from your mind, they will only make you upset."

"I know Albus, thank you," she replied embarrassedly.

"But sometimes she likes to remember anyway," Cedric piped in, Hermione shot him a look.

"The ones that love us never really leave us," Dumbledore said astutely.

"You say that quite often," she retorted.

"It remains a good nugget of wisdom," he replied. "Now, let me see," he started rifling through his deep pockets. "Ah here it is," he handed her a large bar of premium Honeydukes chocolate. "Your favourite is it not?" Hermione nodded. "Take this, I find it always makes me feel as though the world is a little brighter."

"Thank you," Hermione said sincerely, taking the chocolate.

"It is my pleasure dear, try not to dwell on Oliver too much," he said with a small, sad smile. Hermione nodded.

"I think I'm going to go and get an early night, thanks again," she said, rising from the floor.

"I'll walk you back to Gryffindor tower," Cedric said, sending a smirk Tom's way as they walked away, his arm still slung around her shoulders. When the door shut behind them Dumbledore turned to the Slytherin.

"I think it's time for you to go back to the dungeons, Tom," he said seriously, the sparkle gone from his eyes.

"Yes professor," he said, malice leaking into his voice. He didn't need to make an effort to make Dumbledore like him as he did with the other teachers; it was never going to happen. The transfiguration professor was too observant.

"Oh and Tom," he added, peering over his half-moon spectacles. "It seems you have not taken my advice about my god daughter. If anything happens to her, the slightest sadness caused by you and your actions and I will not rest until Dippet expels you, do you understand?"

"Yes Professor," he said stonily, before adding curiously. "Could you tell me who 'Oliver' is?"

"I believe the more appropriate term is, 'who Oliver _was_' and no, it is Hermione's choice, if she wishes for you to know, she will tell you. But if you are going to ask, do it with tact."

"Yes Professor," he repeated, walking from the astronomy tower without another word or a backward glance.

**Chapter Forty Four- Interrupting Lessons**

_You're still going with me to Slughorn's party tomorrow; I just thought I should remind you in case you forgot_

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she read the scrap of parchment that had been passed to her. Focussing her eyes back on Professor Binns, she penned her reply under the table.

_Passing notes is a little juvenile don't you think? I'll see you then._

A few minutes later and another note landed in her lap.

_I'm not going to dignify that first comment with an answer. Have you told your little Gryffindors you're going with me yet?_

_And deny myself the opportunity to witness the looks of surprise… and most likely disgust on their faces on the night. No way._

Hermione looked sideways at his reaction, a small smirk formed on his lips as he read the note. However he was interrupted from replying by the bell, signalling the end of History of Magic. Around them people seemed to be jerked out of stupors and in some cases actual naps, most people gathered their things as quickly as humanly possible and high-tailed it out of there. Hermione however took her time replacing her books in her bag until she was the only person left in the room except for Tom who was looking at her expectantly.

"Good morning," he greeted her.

"Good _afternoon_," Hermione corrected, an innocent smile on her face. Tom quickly checked his watch and she watched with satisfaction as he narrowed his eyes slightly and lowered it without commenting.

"Are you going to lunch?" he asked instead.

"Yes," she replied as they walked slowly from the classroom.

"You know about the other day, on the Astronomy Tower, I didn't mean to seem-" Hermione cut him off.

"Don't worry about it," she interrupted. "I understand why." Tom nodded stiffly.

"Who's Oliver?" he asked. Hermione sighed, she knew this was coming.

"Oliver was Cedric's best friend, my boyfriend," she said calmly, looking intently at Tom's face for a sign of what he was thinking. His face was a mask.

"Was?" he asked coolly.

"He's dead," she replied coldly. She didn't mean to sound so uncaring but she couldn't think of another way to put it.

"Oh," that was the last that he said on the matter, he seemed perfectly normal. It was moments like these that Hermione wished she could use Legillimency on him. What confused Hermione even more was when he planted a kiss on her hand before entering the Great Hall and going to sit with his Slytherins. Hermione decided to forget about it, there was no way of knowing what was going on in his head.

Late that afternoon Hermione had Herbology. It was very refreshing after a day of theoretical lessons in classrooms in the castle to come to her greenhouse, where she could escape the biting chill of the Scottish December and instead bask in the warmth of her tropical greenhouse which was by now coming along very well indeed. Whilst she was in the Hospital Wing and forbidden from tending to magical plants she had planted vast numbers of non-magical plants. What better way was there to break away from the cold and infirmity she was feeling than to enter her own tropical environs?

She was taking a photograph of a flower on one of her younger banana trees when there was a knock on the door. Placing the camera Dumbledore had given her in the branches, she went to open the door, as it was time for the lesson to finish it was probably Professor Sprout.

"Tom," she said in surprise, poking her head round the door. "How can I help you?"

"Am I not allowed to come and see you?" he asked under his breath, although the foyer to the greenhouses is was empty. Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I haven't spent time with you in ages, Hermione," he pointed out, leaning on the door frame. "I promise not to steal any of your top secret ideas." There was a hint of laughter in his voice at this. She seemed to contemplate this for a moment.

"And if you do, the word liar will appear on your forehead in hideous boils," Hermione said, pointing her wand at him. "Agreed?"

"Agreed." Hermione flicked her wand at him and opened the door.

"Come on then," she sighed.

"Impressive," he commented as he walked in. "I can see why you are so protective." He then turned back to her as he heard the click of the door shutting again. "Fortunately there is something in here much more desirable than knowledge of plants," he said with a smirk, stepping forward and snaking his arms round her waist.

"Is that so?" Hermione asked. "Soil samples?"

"No, in fact nothing like that at all," he said, pulling her into his embrace.

"I can't think of what you could mean," she replied lacing her hands around his neck, a daring glimmer in her eyes.

"In that case, let me show you," he said, his lips then meeting hers.

"You know," Hermione said, pulling away from him some time later. "I think I get what you're talking about now."

"Any time you forget, you know where to find me," he said, his smirk reappearing. Hermione glanced over to the clock above the doorway.

"It's dinner time," Hermione stated, untangling herself from Tom.

They left the greenhouses and ventured out into the frosty grounds.

"Why does it have to get dark so early in winter?" Hermione sighed as she and Tom walked back to the castle in the gloom, only the Quidditch pitch and the castle were illuminated.

"Because the earth-"

"I know_ why_ it gets dark so early, it's an expression," she deadpanned rolling her eyes. Tom chuckled a little and squeezed her hand tighter.

"There's someone coming," he said in a low voice, squinting to see through the darkness.

"Get behind that bush," Hermione instructed in a hurried whisper.

"Why me?" he asked.

"Because my clothes are lighter than yours, I'm more easily seen," she retorted, shoving him gently.

"Fine!" he hissed, ducking behind the bush. Hermione continued to walk slowly toward the castle.

"Mione is that you?" Came a shout, it sounded suspiciously like a Weasley.

"Yes… Septimus?" she replied. "Bugger it, lumos." The light from her wand illuminated the faces of some of the Quidditch team.

"It is you!" Venres cheered. "What are you doing out here?"

"I lost track of time in Herbology, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"Off for some Quidditch practice of course," Septimus replied, gesturing to the broomstick over his shoulder.

"Pretty witches shouldn't be out walking alone in the dark," Venres said in concern. "Do want me to walk you back to the common room?"

"No, no I wouldn't want to tear you away from your flying, I'll be fine," she said breezily.

"Are you sure? I don't like it," Septimus said.

"Yes of course," she said quickly. "I'll see you all later."

"Okay," Venres said slowly. "We'll bring some hot chocolate and cake back from the kitchens after we're done."

"Oh, will you try and teach us the Patronus Charm again? I think I'm getting it," Septimus said eagerly.

"Yes, as long as you bring nice cake," Hermione said with a smile. "Have fun with Quidditch."

A minute later they had gone and Tom had caught up with her.

"You'll teach them it but not me?" he demanded.

"Yes," she said simply.

"Hermione, please just try and teach me, just give me twenty minutes of your time!" he pleaded.

"Fifteen."

"You have to think of a happy memory, Tom," Hermione repeated. "Are you thinking about dark magic?"

"How did you-"

"Because you're not getting it, the Patronus is a very advanced kind of light magic which you will not be able to perform if you are thus tainted by dark magic," she explained.

"But you've used dark magic, how can you do?" he asked, twiddling his wand through his long fingers in irritation. He was stood at the front of an unused classroom, trying to get this spell right whilst Hermione perched on a desk, surveying him.

"The good things I've done outweigh the bad things," Hermione said with a shrug. Tom glared at her. "Maybe you're just not thinking of a happy enough memory."

"Well which memory did think of?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Bit private don't you think?" she replied.

"Just tell me," he pleaded. Hermione crossed her arms and looked away.

"The mark I got for my first ever piece of magic homework," she said curtly. Tom started to laugh loudly. "Laugh all you want but to an eleven year old me, a one hundred and four per cent on a transfiguration essay was an important." He didn't stop laughing. "I think we're done here."

"No, wait," he said, stopping his laughter but still breathing deeply. "You promised me twenty minutes."

"I promised you fifteen and it's been thirty one," she pointed out loftily. "Now if you will excuse me." She hopped from the desk and stalked across the room.

"Pick you up at eight tomorrow then," he called after her.

**(A/N- I'm sorry for the late update, this week was beyond hectic. It was my last week of school so I was bombarded by year books, parties and revision for my english, spanish and chemistry exams. Please don't hate me :'( On a brighter note it is half term now so I hope to go back to the old routine of updates. Thank you ! xx**

**Chapter Forty Five- I'm Yours**

Hermione's handwriting lurched slightly as she felt cool fingers wrap around her own, looking down she saw a familiar, pale hand clasping her own which was resting on her leg. Averting her gaze back to Slughorn who was lecturing at the front of the classroom she slipped her hand away and rested it on the bottom of her parchment. However Tom's hand did not move from her thigh. With a swift movement of her leg she watched with an odd satisfaction as he grimaced beside her and clutched at his shin instead, where there would no doubt now be the indentation of her heel. He cast her an infuriated look which she just smiled sweetly back at, his gaze did not stay sour for long and he shook his head slightly, and tried to bite back a smile. Hermione smiled broadly at him, delighting in his tolerance of her.

"Something the matter Tom m'boy?" Slughorn asked loudly. Each of them hurriedly looked away from one another and back to the Professor.

"Cramp, sir," Tom lied, stealing a sideways glance at Hermione once the professor had turned his back on them in favour of the chalk board.

As Hermione packed her things into her bag at the end of the lesson Slughorn's booming voice broke through the chatter.

"Miss Wembdon may I have a word with you please?" Hermione agreed and waited as the rest of the students filed out of the dungeon, Slughorn noticing Tom's backward glance at her. Once the last student had left Slughorn locked the door, Hermione frowned in confusion. "Please excuse the precaution Miss Wembdon but it is a sensitive subject I wish to talk to you about."

"It is Sir?" she asked, curious as to what he could be talking about.

"In some ways it is, yes," he said with a contented sigh, dropping into the chair behind his desk. "Please take a seat," he said gesturing to the chair in front of him, Hermione obliged. "I have heard a rumour that you are attending my little party with the handsomest boy in my own house." His tone was prying but good natured; as though this was the best piece of gossip he had heard in years.

"No sir, Mr Goyle refused to go with me," she replied dryly, her voice wavering what with trying not to let out a laugh. He sighed and shook his head but his lips upturned in a smile all the same.

"I shall pretend you did not make that comment Miss Wembdon. You are going with Mr Riddle, are you not?" he asked cheerily, as though he was an uncle looking past his niece's follies.

"I am," she answered.

"Miss Wembdon you must understand that I do not mean to sound impertinent, this is not easy for me to say," he took a deep breath and Hermione stayed silent. "I can see the way Tom looks at you, Merlin, I have never seen him look at anything other than his wand and his own reflection the same way as he does you. I do not doubt for a moment that he feels very strongly about you." Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but the professor held up a hand to cut her off. "Please let me finish, I beseech you, as an impartial witness who is rather fond of both you and Tom to take my friendly advice. Tom does not show his feelings often, sometimes he makes people doubt if he actually has any, he has had a hard life after all, it is his defence mechanism. Do not take advantage of this rare occurrence, do not toy with heart because I worry that if pushed the wrong way Tom could… become a difficulty. I understand that you are a sought after young lady and you may not have the same feelings for him as I believe he has for you, but I beg you not to hurt him. There is no knowing what he could do."

Hermione stayed silent for a second.

"Professor I thank you for your wise advice, I assure you that I shall not play with any boys emotions intentionally," she said earnestly.

"That is all I can ask Miss Wembdon," he said with a smile, dismissing her with a wave of his podgy hand. She got up but before she reached the door she turned.

"Tom is lucky to have someone who looks out for him as you do, he may not be aware of your input but I were him I would be extremely appreciative," she said. He smiled a small smile and she left the room.

Hermione descended into the common room, wearing a cream dress with a full, knee length skirt and bodice decorated with delicate lace. She drove her scarlet and impossibly high heel into the carpet self-consciously as her Gryffindor friends appraised her outfit. There was silence for a moment and then a long, low whistle.

"Impressive," Septimus said appreciatively as he lounged on the sofa, not attending the party.

"Do we get to find out who the lucky boy is now?" Venres asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I imagine he is on the other side of that portrait," she said, sweeping the curls out of her face. To her astonishment half of the upper three years dashed toward the portrait hole. She followed slowly as they all poked their heads out of the Fat Lady.

"No, no, no, no, no," Venres called back to her. "You cannot be meaning this guy."

"Good evening Weasley," she heard the smug drawl from outside the common room.

"What potion have you slipped her to get her to do this," Robert asked, being the first person to actually venture over the boundary. He was soon followed by the sixth and seventh year boys, Hermione pushed her way through them.

"What's wrong, afraid I'm going to steal away your little Gryffindor princess?" he asked, mocking them whilst still leaning casually against the wall.

"This is uncalled for Tom," Theo said gravely.

"Surely you could have had one of the snake girls who throw themselves at you on a day to day basis," Septimus said defensively.

"I prefer Hermione," he said with a smirk that made their hands ball into fists he turned to Hermione. "Who, while we're on the subjects, looks breath-taking," he added before looking back toward the angry Gryffindors. "Now if you'll excuse us we have somewhere to be." The Gryffindor boys watched in horror and disbelief, the girls with a mixed emotion somewhere between admiration and envy as Tom extended not his arm, but his hand to her, and she took it, her dainty, slender fingers entwining with his own.

"Bye then," she said nervously, raising a hand to them. "I'll see you later."

Hermione cringed as she walked down the corridor; she could feel their stares hammering at her back and her hand which was laced with Tom's. His laughter didn't help either.

"Lighten up," he said, his smirk still playing about his lips as he squeezed her hand in reassurance. Hermione sighed and nodded, as they continued walking down to the dungeons.

As they entered the party it was evident that Slughorn had taken the whole Christmas theme a little too far, it wasn't even the holidays yet. There were towering trees decorated in gaudy baubles and tinsel in every corner and stupid Christmassy songs were being played a little too loudly to allow for normal conversation.

Slughorn looked as though he was about to burst with pride as he saw his two favourite students walk in, hand in hand, he ushered them round the room to introduce them to famous witches and wizards. Hermione wasn't paying attention to it all in the slightest; it was all she could do not to openly stare at her date. Usually she was not one to be so overcome by the looks of a person, but in Tom's eyes there was a sparkle, his whole face seemed to light up and make his already handsome face infinitely more attractive. Tom with a drink in one hand, only let go of Hermione's in the other, to shake hands in an introduction and his fingers quickly found her own again afterward. Finally they managed to detach themselves from Slughorn when Tom asked loudly whether Hermione would care to dance. His head of house clapped him on the back and winked overdramatically before shooing them over to the middle of the room where there was a dance floor in front of the band.

"You really do look lovely tonight," Tom said, pulling her in closer to him, resting one hand on her waist and holding the other their hands aloft.

"Thank you," she said, playing with the lapel of his jacket as they danced. "You look quite lovely yourself."

"I wanted to say that… I apologize for deliberately taunting your Gryffindor friends," he said uncomfortably.

"Your apology is noted, but they weren't exactly being polite either," she said fairly, looking up into his dark, bottomless eyes. A smile lit up his usually emotionless face; he seemed elated by her not defending her Gryffindor friends against him very much.

"Hermione can I talk to you about something," he asked, tearing his gaze from her, to glance around the room. No one was dancing near them, only a small goblin couple in the back corner were dancing too, and their eyes were closed in serenity as they swayed with one another.

"Of course," she said.

"What do we have together?" he asked eyes boring desperately into her own. "One minute you kiss me the next minute you look like you want to curse my head off."

"That's generally how you make me feel, you have a habit of ruining moments by being an arsehole," she said simply. Tom wasn't fazed by her brushing off his concerns.

"Hermione you have kept me in suspense for months, you have forced me to share you for half a year, ever since the moment we met I have never known what you truly think of me, it's exasperating. I feel as though I know nothing yet everything about you and your emotions are as fleeting as the wind. I am tired of hiding whatever kind of relationship it is we have, of seeing the way other men flirt uncontrollably with you and being able to say nothing, do nothing because I have no right to. I don't like to share, in fact I despise sharing and yet I have done so with you, for so long. So if you feel anything more than casual indifference towards me, I beg you not to make me share any longer." Hermione's eyes widened as she looked up at him, his eyes shone with longing and she did not doubt his sincerity.

"I stand by what I said in the hospital wing," she murmured. "I'll be yours if you be mine."

"Hermione," he sighed, and for a second Hermione thought he was going to pull away from her and tell her how impossible that was. "As much as I tried to deny it, even to myself, I've been yours since the first moment you held my hand and there is _nothing_ I can do about it."

"Well then," she said softly, twisting her wrist and pulling his hand toward her, she pressed her lips to his fingers and dropped it, wrapping her now free hand around the back of his neck, his hand slid down to her waist with the other. "I'm yours."

**Chapter Forty Six- Encountering Liaisons**

"We're some of the last people here," Hermione commented.

"So we are," Tom replied, they were still dancing, closely in the centre of the room. Hermione was pressed to his chest, her arms looped around his neck, twisting his soft curls around her fingers. "I should probably walk you back to your dorm."

"Yes, you probably should," Hermione said serenely.

"Or," he offered mischievously, a daring glint in his eye. "I could take you back to_ my_ dorm and have my wicked way with you." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I think I'm going to have to pass on that second one," she retorted. Tom chuckled and brushed her curls from her face, just as she had done herself at the beginning of the evening.

"Come on then," he said, removing his hands from her waist and capturing one of her hands in his, twirling her around.

Arms slung around each other they meandered through the dimly lit corridors, both grinning with a superior satisfaction as though they had each one-upped the other in the a battle of wits and had finally succeeded in achieving what they desired. They stopped outside The Fat Lady, the corridor only illuminated by flickering candles, burning low so late in the evening.

"Are you sure about my previous offer, the dungeons are really quite charming," he said with another roguish smile, pulling her into his embrace. Hermione laughed and shook her head.

"You need to shut up," she reprimanded lightly, winding her hands around his collar and pressing their lips together.

"You know," Tom said, starting to speak whilst they were kissing. Hermione leaned backward and narrowed her eyes, predicting him putting his foot in it. "I like you better in those shoes, I don't have to crane my neck to kiss you."

"I'll have you know I am actually quite tall," she said in a matter of fact tone. "And I really don't care about how your neck aches when you're such a pain in the arse."

"Ouch Hermione, that's low… and tall for a goblin maybe," he teased, she scowled. "A pretty goblin."

"You are horrible, you know that?" she said, with a glare.

"You've mentioned it a few times," he said with a grin, lifting her slightly and spinning around making her laugh. He set her down, but did not unwrap his arms from around her as they heard the low creek of the portrait opening, Hermione span round to see twenty wands pointing straight at them.

"Hands off, snake boy, ten points from Slytherin for not keeping them to yourself," a male voice said, but who exactly it was unknown as the faces were thrown into shadow.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being a dirty little pervert," Tom retorted, stunned by the impertinence.

"Step away from the Gryffindor," another voice demanded.

"No," he declared, reaching for his wand and pointing toward them. "I won't. But next time I'll be sure to tell you not to kiss_ your_ girlfriend goodnight."

"Girlfriend!" came the chorus from the Gryffindors. The colour drained from Hermione's face, but Tom just smiled in an entirely self-satisfied and arrogant way.

"Well this is awkward," Hermione breathed self-consciously, looking around for some sort of distraction. As luck would have it, a distraction is exactly what she got, in the form of two very drunk Gryffindors turning the corner, both in their dress robes, but obviously not having come from Slughorn's party.

The tension was broken by Claudia's giggles as her and none other than the equally inebriated Head Boy stumbled into the firing line, holding hands, hair ruffled and clothes askew. There was silence for a second as Venres Weasley stepped out from behind the portrait hole, wand nowhere in sight.

"Well isn't this an interesting turn of events," he said cheerily, looking from one face to the next. Hermione removed herself from Tom, who lowered his wand, chuckling slightly and stormed over to Cedric.

"Cedric Jasper Amos please do not tell me that you are drunk!" she hissed at him.

"I can't really do that, that would be a lie," he said, eyes wide.

"Do either of you have any idea what example you have been setting to the younger students?" she demanded, not pausing for an answer.

"To be fair," Claudia slurred, raising her hand. "If the younger students have not yet realized that I am a terrible influence then they deserve to be influenced negatively by me. I am a terrible prefect." Hermione pondered this for a second.

"Okay, point taken your free to go," she said pointing her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the portrait hole.

"Yes!" she exclaimed pumping her fist into the air and letting go of Cedric's hand. "You're on your own in this Ceddy, she's scary when she's mad. Good luck though," she stage whispered before kissing him on the cheek and darting off beyond the portrait. Hermione crossed her arms, jaw set.

"Cedric Jasper what on earth were you thinking?" Hermione questioned angrily. "You are Head Boy and I should not have to be lecturing you on the unseemliness of drinking around the castle. It is one thing doing it in a common room party surrounded by other, equally as drunk people but going out with one girl and getting plastered is not only unacceptable but highly improper. You smell like a bloody whiskey bottle."

"Sorry Hermione," he mumbled.

"Damn right 'sorry Hermione,'" she spat. "Now go to bed this instant." She hesitated. "No don't …have a shower, you smell. Then go to bed."

"Yes," Cedric said, nodding his head and making quickly for the portrait hole.

"Oh and Cedric," she called after him, he turned. "You are lucky it was Claudia, otherwise I would have hexed your arse off by now!"

"Duly noted," he said, looking a little afraid of her and hurrying through the crowds.

"All of you common room, now!" she commanded, hands on hips. The Gryffindors, despite being known for their bravery shrunk away from Hermione as though she were an actual lioness and rushed back through the common room. None of them daring even a second glance back at Hermione who was stood there, chest heaving and glaring daggers, in case now that she was done with her tirade against Cedric she would start on one of them. Even without her wand drawn none of them were taking their chances.

"Did mention you're sexy when you're angry?" came an amused drawl from behind her.

**(AN- Sorry this one's a little short. I'll try and put a new one up later today (UK time) to make up for it, lots of love :D)**

**Chapter Forty Seven- The Awkward Aftermath**

Hermione picked at her breakfast, toying with the toast in her hands. The end of the table which was occupied by the upper year Gryffindors, was almost silent and they were all taking sideways glances at one another. The other houses had no idea what was going on with them.

"Those Gryffindors are awfully peculiar," one Slytherin third year said to his companion.

"Peculiar?" he replied haughtily. "Merlin Graham, they are abnormal in a most abhorrent way, it's taken you this long to realize?"

"Could pass the milk please Oliva?" Theo asked politely, breaking the silence back at the Gryffindor table.

"Of course Theo," she replied uncomfortably, sliding the large jug to the boy opposite her. The table fell back into hush.

"I think maybe we should talk about all this," Septimus said diplomatically a little while later.

"Yeah, there is a huge elephant in the room and quite frankly its big arse is ruining my breakfast for me," Venres said, dropping his spoon with a clatter.

"Please can we be quiet with the cutlery," Cedric pleaded, rubbing circles on his temples.

"There, there old boy," Venres said clapping him on the back with one hand and refilling his glass with another. "Water helps, drink up." He then looked at the awkward expressions of his companions. "Let's get this all cleared up."

"Hermione, you're new boyfriend is snake-boy, correct?" Septimus asked impartially, she nodded in response, not looking up from her plate. "Clauds, are you and Cedders dating." Claudia's eyes widened in horror and she brought a hand to her throat, signalling for him to shut up.

"Sensitive subject area, I see," Venres said flippantly, winking at the brunette. "Now is anyone else getting it on with anyone else that the rest of us don't know about?"

"Actually," started Olivia pompously. "I was just saying to Michaela and Janie earlier about how Geoff the Hufflepuff asked me to go Christmas shopping with him in Hogs-"

"No one cares Olivia," Venres interrupted in a soft, patronizing voice. "Literally no one." Olivia pouted and glared at the red head who just patted her arm condescendingly. "There's a good girl." Hermione smirked behind her toast; she loved it when the twins made fun of her ditzy dorm mates.

"I care," Yohanna piped up, smiling broadly at her friend.

"Yohanna get your head of Olivia's arse will you? Not even _you _really give a sh-" Claudia interrupted Venres by putting a hand over his mouth.

"Not in front of the first years," she said firmly, before removing her hand.

"Oh I'm sorry I'll just go and drink until I throw up on my bed shall I?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Again, I'm sorry Ven, I was disorientated, I don't even know why I was in the boy's dormitory, it wasn't intentional," she said, her cheeks tinged pink.

"You're lucky you're good looking," Venres said moodily, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, Ven doesn't let ugly chicks vomit where he sleeps," Septimus laughed, nudging his brother in the side.

"You should have seen him last night, he didn't clean up your sick until this morning, he slept in it, muttering something about it being 'from inside the most beautiful female in the world, part of her' he was rolling around in it, sniffing it… it was really weird Clauds maybe you should go to the ministry about some sort of restraining order," Theo said in mock seriousness.

"Oh ha ha," Venres said grumpily.

"That is a disgusting image," Maggie laughed, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"I'm trying to eat here," Hermione exclaimed, a smile betraying her as she threw her toast onto her plate.

"Must you all make such loud noises?" Cedric asked, shielding his eyes from the light of the room.

"LOUD NOISES!" Septimus shouted as he leant forwards, grinning from ear to ear.

"Bugger off," Cedric replied, flinging a spoonful of porridge which hit him bang on the nose.

"Did you just see that? That was serious assault!" Septimus claimed, wiping the thick porridge off of his face.

"Serves you right for being such an arse," Hermione said, whacking him around the head playfully as she reached for the teapot.

"Yeah Seppy stop being such a-" Venres was stopped again by Claudia's hand.

Everyone laughed at the indignant look on Venres' face as Claudia shut him up again. Hermione for one was glad that this tension was finally breaking. As Venres and Claudia argued in their usual way about his language some more, Cedric caught Hermione's eye and gave her a small reassuring smile.

"I'm here for you," he mouthed, so the others could not interpret what they were saying.

"Thank you," she mouthed back, before pointing discreetly at Claudia and giving him a thumbs up. He looked down at his plate and Hermione could swear she saw a blush rising in his cheeks; she smiled wider and for the thousandth time was astounded by his unwavering support.

"Anyway, what say we go back up to the tower, kick the first years out of our seats by the fire and spend our last Saturday all together this year, playing cards?" Septimus suggested, Hermione and Cedric both looked up guiltily and agreed.

The band of Gryffindors were walking up the grand staircase when someone shouted Hermione's name, she wheeled around to see Tom standing at the bottom.

"Where for art thou Romeo?" Septimus sniggered as Hermione leant over the banister.

"Shush you," she said. "I'll be right back, wait here." She descended the one flight of stairs between them.

"Good morning," he said once she reached him, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Deny thy father and refuse they name!" Venres laughed loudly, once again to be silenced by Claudia's hand. Hermione looked up at the Gryffindors who were leaning against the balustrade on the floor above and watching intently.

"Did you sleep well?" Tom asked politely.

"No," Hermione said bluntly. "I spent all evening holding Claudia's hair whilst she vomited. A lovely end to the day."

"Typical Gryffindor," he said dryly. "Are you busy today?"

"As a matter of fact I am, this morning I am going to be spending in the common room with those lot and then I have to Hogsmeade to finish buying their Christmas presents," she explained, his eyes narrowed jealously. "Most of them leave on Friday, you're here for the next three weeks which they aren't." His expression softened a little.

"Fine, but I'm not happy about it," he said grouchily staring up at the onlookers. "Especially about you being with the one in the red jumper, he is having very inappropriate thoughts about you," he added in an undertone.

"Stop it!" she said threateningly. "Legillimency is not to be used on my friends." Tom ignored her.

"I should make you wear a sign, stating exactly whose girlfriend you are," he said, scowling.

"Do that, and I shall hex your forehead to come out in boils spelling 'Hermione's little bitch'" she said, smiling sweetly. Tom's scowl deepened.

"You wouldn't dare," he said confidently.

"Phrases like that are often what makes people do stupid," she pointed out. "How about I meet you later."

"Library?" He asked.

"Okay, I'll see you then," she said, stepping onto her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye.

"I don't think so," he said with a smirk, waving sarcastically to the Gryffindors before reaching out to her. He crushed their lips together, clasping her knee and draping it around his hip before she knew was happening she had been 'dipped'.

With the feel of his lips on her own she did not notice the Weasley twins spouting more, provocative Shakespearean quotes or a very flustered and embarrassed Professor Flitwick shouting at them in his high pitched and squeaky voice, in the end he resorted to disentangling them by magic before scurrying off, muttering about teenagers these days.

"Doesn't your neck hurt after doing that?" Hermione said loudly, they were now ten foot apart after all.

"Not at all," he said smugly, with a wink. "See you later." Hermione rolled her eyes and looked up at her friends, some of whom looked amused, others annoyed.

Four of them were wearing red.

**Chapter Forty Eight- No Regrets?**

"Have a lovely Christmas," Hermione said, hugging each of the twins at once, one in each arm. "Give my love to the family and don't forget to write."

"About that, if you get a present from mum…" Septimus started.

"She does things like that," Venres said apologetically, Hermione laughed at the similarities and brushed away their comments. "What do you think they're talking about?" Venres mumbled, inclining his head toward Cedric and Claudia who looked as though they were having an awkward conversation. They all shrugged.

"Three weeks will be a long time with only this dolt," Septimus sighed, elbowing his brother and changing the topic.

"Be glad you don't have to actually spend it with in _your_ company!" Venres joshed. "Are you sure you can't stay here and then I can take the lovely Hermione home?"

"You will drive each other crazy if all you do is tease each other," Hermione chided.

"Too late," they chorused, before kissing Hermione on each cheek and levitating their trunks through the crowds. The last person Hermione said goodbye to was Claudia.

"Have a good time in Spain," she said, squeezing her tightly.

"Thanks, you have a nice Christmas," she said a smile plastered to her face; Hermione noticed her gaze flicker to Cedric for a second, who was surrounded by a group of giggling girls, who were holding out extravagantly wrapped gifts which he obviously had not thought to reciprocate.

"I'll talk to him Clauds," Hermione said in low voice, squeezing her hand reassuringly. She smiled sadly and looked at the floor.

"There's no need," she replied dejectedly. "I don't think he likes me… like that anyway. Why would he eh?" A faint blush rose in her cheeks which made her look vulnerable. Hermione didn't like that, not her vibrant and confident Claudia, the one who had helped her so discreetly when she was in her… compromising situation after being poisoned, the one who brightened her day with her banter with the twins.

"Claudia I promise you, if there is one thing I know about Cedric it is that he is shy when it comes to romantic feelings. Just trust me to talk to him, I'll find out what's going on inside his head. He is a boy after all, I beg you to just not give up hope just yet," Hermione said in earnest.

"Thank you… just... I…" she stammered.

"Don't worry, I understand," she said, pulling the older girl into another hug. "Have fun in Spain."

"Are you hungry?" Tom asked. It was mid-afternoon and the library was illuminated by candles due to the impending snow storm.

"No," she said simply, looking up from her book for just a second, curling her legs in tighter to her body, her blue cotton skirt fanning out around her.

"Thirsty? I have Butterbeer," he offered, gesturing to his bag. Hermione seemed to contemplate it for a moment.

"No food or drink in the library," she said smartly, her eyes being drawn back to the pages of written word before her.

"No one else is here, gone on live a little," he said temptingly. She again seemed to think about it, there was no doubt she was cold, despite the thick jumper she was wearing, Butterbeer would definitely warm her up.

"Oh okay then, thanks," she said smiling sweetly as Tom reached into his bag, he almost hesitated, his hands closed of the warm bottle necks. Steeling himself he continued, discounting that little niggle in the back of his mind, that felt like a cross between doubt and guilt, he handed her the bottle with the corner of the label ripped.

He watched as she uncorked the bottle with her wand, setting it carefully onto the table beside her.

He could still stop her, he could still take the drink away from her and nothing would have happened. But he had spent the best part of five months perfecting this potion. It wasn't as if this made him a monster, someone who didn't care for her. He just wanted to know.

He had to know.

He watched her intently as she lifted the bottle to her full, rosy lips and took a sip of the warming liquid.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly but not looking as if she suspected anything.

"You look… pretty today," he said, his voice slightly strangled.

"You're being odd," she replied, stifling a yawn, she shook herself slightly. "I feel sleepy."

"I'll walk you back to Gryffindor tower," he said, putting her book into her bag for her and slinging it over his own shoulder. She seemed to fighting her drowsiness as she stood up, swaying slightly. Tom put his arm protectively round her as they walked out of the library.

"Where are we going?" she asked thickly, leaning heavily on him.

"To sleep Hermione, you're tired," he said soothingly, but not looking at her.

"Oh… good," she said, clinging to his shirt and moulding to his side. It felt wrong to Tom, taking the most poised, intelligent and powerful witch he had ever encountered and reducing her to… well this.

It was a Monday afternoon in the Christmas holidays, hardly anyone had chosen to stay, even Dumbledore and Cedric were out, 'house hunting' as Hermione had called it, rolling her eyes as she told Tom, she had said that she was not allowed to go with them because Cedric wanted it to be a surprise. Tom had trouble hiding his resentment that Dumbledore was just forking out galleons for Cedric to buy a house for when he left school.

Most of the Slytherins had gone home for the occasion, all pureblood –and most other families come to think of it- insisted their children came home from school to celebrate Christmas in this time; of course neither Tom nor Hermione had any family to go home to. There were just two second years in the Slytherin common room when Tom walked in, half dragging Hermione.

"You saw nothing," he snarled. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes Mr Riddle," they said quickly, looking back down at their game of chess, not wanting to make eye contact. Tom smirked, he could have done this even when the whole house was present, none would defy him or dare disturb should he see fit to take his girlfriend up to his dormitory. It was not as if it was a rare occurrence before Hermione arrived.

Still he locked the door with a loud click.

Gently he laid her on his own bed, her hair splayed across the white pillow; she seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. Tom sighed slightly and seated himself in the leather armchair next to his bed, his right ankle resting on his left knee and his long, pale fingers steepled under his chin. There was the tiniest glimmer of regret in his eyes; he didn't _want _to have to do this.

Not to Hermione, not to her.

Why couldn't she just tell him her secrets?

**Chapter Forty Nine- Stolen Dreams**

Tom watched until Hermione seemed to be sleeping peacefully before he got out his wand, waving it in large circles over her, sweeping and cutting it through the air, muttering incomprehensible words under his breath. It was one of the most complex pieces of magic he had ever performed.

Tom knew that Hermione had dreams about her past, something he was very interested to find out about. That was how he devised this plan; whenever they were both sleeping he would also dream her dreams.

It wasn't like he ever dreamt anyway.

He sat back down in the chair beside her and watched as her eyes started to flutter open.

"Where am I?" she asked groggily, starting in alarm.

"My dormitory, you passed out in the library… I couldn't think of anywhere else to take you," he replied, passing her a muffin that he got from the kitchens earlier. "I think it was low blood sugar levels, eat this."

"Oh…" she said, frowning. "I suppose I did skip breakfast, thank you."

"Are you still tired?" he asked as she ate the cake, as if he didn't already know. She nodded. "Come on, now you're conscious you can let yourself into Gryffindor tower, I'll walk with you."

As soon as Hermione had gone through the portrait hole Tom dashed, well as fast as his demure and elegant persona would allow down the dungeons once again. He slipped into his dormitory, uncorked the stopper of a medium strength sleeping draught and only just managed to hit his mattress. Face down, before he was unconscious.

He felt as though he was falling, he squeezed his eyes shut as the sensation was making him feel nauseous. He opened them only when he felt his feet touch something solid. He was still surrounded by the fog, but he was standing upright. Just as he noticed this the fog cleared.

_He was stood at the back of the Great Hall, it looked as it had done every Halloween since he started Hogwarts, except it was a little fuller there seemed to be more people, it was decorated with pumpkins and bats, the golden plates of the feast cleaning themselves before his eyes. He noticed he was stood behind a girl with voluminous brown hair, dressed in her usual Gryffindor robes and talking in a low voice with three redhead boys and another with messy black hair._

_There was no doubt it was his Hermione, but why was she dreaming about the end of a Halloween feast? He tore his eyes away from the back of her head and instead to the front of the hall.  
Tom noticed there was a sense of excitement in the students, but all Tom was feeling was a little curiosity, he supposed that what Hermione must have been feeling.  
And now he realized why, Dumbledore stood in front of the Goblet of fire, he knew it from books about the Triwizard Tournement but that was it. The entire tournament had been banned; surely Hermione could not have sat through one. And Dumbledore looked so old, his long silvery beard tucked into his belt and Dippet was nowhere in sight. There was no doubt that he was the headmaster, the teacher he despised the most, headmaster of magnificent Hogwarts, his home, Tom shuddered at the thought._

_Dumbledore raised his hand as the flames in the goblet turned suddenly red, sparks flying. He caught a scrap of paper within his wizened fingers._

"_The Durmstrang champion," he said in a loud and clear voice. "Is Viktor Krum." The hall erupted into cheers and Tom was at a loss for why, it seemed only Hermione and the boy who she had mentioned as Harry were still sat down at the Gryffindor table, rolling their eyes._

"_I wonder if it was by skill or fame that he got into there," Hermione said with a cynical smirk._

"_He's an international Quidditch player, Hermione, he can do what he damn well pleases," he replied. The cheering finally died down as the goblet turned from blue to red once again._

"_The Beauxbatons champion is," Dumbledore said dramatically. "Miss Fleur Delacour!" A striking blonde girl rose from the Ravenclaw table, flickering her silvery hair over her shoulder._

"_But where iz ze competition?" Hermione asked in a mock French accent. "Deez were obvious, no?"_

"_Yes but now we get to Hogwarts champion," Harry replied, craning his neck in interest._

"_Here's to Angelina," Hermione murmured._

"_To Angelina," he agreed. They watched in suspense as the flames turned red for the third time, and a name came to Dumbledore's hand._

"_And the Hogwarts champion is… Cedric Diggory!" The hall erupted into cheers, even Hermione and Harry shared a look and shrug before standing up and joining in. Tom watched in amazement at Hermione's disregard for him, his seat at the Hufflepuff table and his new last name.  
But there was no doubt it was him. That was the person he had come to detest under the name Cedric Amos._

_But then the fire turned red again._

"_This is impossible," Harry said to Hermione._

"_More than impossible," she agreed. But another piece of charred parchment skipped from the flames._

"_Harry Potter," Dumbledore announced in croaky disbelief. Hermione and Harry looked at each other._

"_No," he breathed. "This can't be."_

"_Harry-" Hermione started. Tom could feel her worry and shock coursing through him like an electric current._

"_Harry Potter!" Dumbledore shouted, quite forcefully. Hermione watched helplessly as her friend got shakily to his feet._

_The scene changed completely and Tom found himself stood in the middle of a clearing, edged by roaring stands of people he could see Hermione at the very front, wringing her hands and biting her lip so hard it was bleeding. Suddenly screams erupted through the crowds and Tom almost doubled over as he felt the concern welling up inside his stomach, it was Hermione's dream, her memory, her emotion. He turned to see what had got the spectators and her so riled. There on the floor were two teenage boys, he couldn't recognize them at first, both had their face scratched and scraped beyond immediate recognition, bloodied and bashed like they had been through a firing squad._

_Tom felt something break within him when he heard the next sound._

"_Harry!" came a scream. He knew that voice, he would know that voice even though he had never heard such emotional anguish and distress fall from her lips. He knew before he turned that it would be Hermione running from the stands. Her hair was curlier than he had ever known it, she was wearing a thick jumper and jeans. Denim jeans. He had never, ever seen her in jeans before._

"_Harry!" she screamed again, sliding onto her knees to the side of her messy haired friend. Why did she spare no second glance for her best friend Cedric? He was in perhaps worse shape than Harry yet she had no eyes for anyone but him. Strange._

_She looked about fifteen, but she had an intelligence and wisdom shining in her eyes which made her seem older, not to mention a look that she had seen much more bloodshed in those few years than most people had in a lifetime._

_Just as he was thinking this, the scene changed again and Tom was in an unknown kitchen, it was quite large, the walls were painted a light, cornflower blue, the cupboards were a light wood and the main attraction was the grand fireplace which stood next to the wide cream aga cooker. However Tom did not take in the surroundings of the kitchen which looked like it could be from a show house, he had eyes only for the two people in front of him, or more accurately the girl._

_Hermione was sat on the work surface, her hair pulled back into a messy bun with none of the usual make up he saw her wear. She was wearing long cotton pyjama trousers with red quaffles on, he did not know why she was wearing them, she didn't even like Quidditch that much, and again she was wearing trousers. She was also wearing a red sweatshirt, many sizes too big for her with the Gryffindor lion insignia on the bicep and he could just see the number 2 and OLIVER W- on the back in gold embroidery, he could not read the end of the name._

_Even though he could feel Hermione's own contentment in this part of her dream his heart dropped like a stone, he had never seen her look so beautiful… so happy and full of life. But it tore at his insides as he saw exactly who had brought this blissful and exuberant Hermione about, stood leaning against the opposite counter to her, sipping from a mug of steaming tea. He was burly and tall, traditional offensive Quidditch player physique, he was also wearing Quaffle pyjama bottoms. He had short, reddish brown hair, dark attentive eyes and a strong jawline. He was raising one eyebrow at her over his cup._

"_I can't believe we bought a house," Hermione breathed, looking about the kitchen. "It's… beautiful."_

"_I can't believe we're getting married," he replied regarding her lovingly, setting down his cup and reaching out toward her. "And my bride-to-be is beautiful." Hermione blushed and looked at the flagstone floor, still reaching out and entwining their fingers._

"_It's weird now he's dead isn't it?" Hermione said pensively. "Killed so many of our friends, family and now he's just gone, the same way they are."_

"_And we're safe," the male said, wrapping his arms around her. "Safe to be together."_

"_I miss them," Hermione said sadly, sighing a little._

"_Me too," he said brushing her hair. "But no one else will die at his hand, not now." Hermione gave him a sad look._

"_He still has his followers, even in death. We aren't that safe yet, they'll come after some of us… I bet," she told him seriously._

"_But we'll keep living on in hope," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. She nodded and took a deep breath._

"_And you need to get going," she said, squeezing his chin playfully where there was a morning stubble shading his jawline. "And have a shave. Do the England team like it when their keeper is late?"_

_Again the scene changed and this time Tom had no time to adjust to his surroundings, he was in the middle of a battle in a regular London back street, a little dark and dingy but nothing out of the ordinary. Until you saw the people, there six people in dark cloaks and hoods, firing the darkest of magic at four young people, barely more than teenagers, dressed in usual wizarding robes. He didn't see the start of this fight only the end. Where the boy from before, the one who must have been Oliver fell to the floor in a flash of orange light, blood leaking from every pore of his skin, his eyes still open wide and staring in an unearthly way._

"_NO!" Hermione screamed, stopping her duelling to try and rush over to him. "OLIVER!" Her scream was like knives in Tom's skin, he felt the ghost of her pain, of her anguish. But if this was just a ghost, he could not imagine what she was actually feeling at that moment._

"_Hermione, no!" he knew that deep voice, it was Cedric. He had seen her about to run to Oliver's body, her wand hanging limply in her hand and tears of sorrow rushing down her cheeks. He was faster and grabbed her from behind, wrapping his strong arms around her. "He's gone Granger, he's gone you can't help him." Cedric's voice was thick with emotion, he could not bear to look at the body, Tom recalled the fact that they had been best friends._

"_NO! OLIVER!" she screamed, writhing in Cedric's arms, trying with all her might to fight her way to her beloved. Tom could feel his own body been almost torn apart with her grief, it felt as though every particle of his being was dying, and it was excruciating._

_Was this what it was like to lose a loved one? He wouldn't know._

"_Hermione, please, you can't touch him," Cedric implored, still restraining her. The blood had stopped dripping, now it was a sickly black substance that moved like thick oil._

"_OLIVER!" she screamed again, sobs wracking through her body as she tried in one last desperate attempt to rid herself of Cedric's restriction. Cedric made the decision to turn on the spot and they disapparated, landing shakily in a dark doorway, her pulled her inside. Hermione still howling and beating Cedric with her fists. A man with long, well-kept hair and aristocratic features rushed toward them, clasping Cedric's shoulder._

"_What happened?" he asked, looking worriedly at Hermione._

"_Death Eaters, cornered us, Oliver is dead, Sirius," Cedric said hoarsely, closing his eyes to stop tears spilling._

"_Not Oliver," the man called Sirius murmured, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again and looking down at the thrashing girl. "Come on, we'll get her a dreamless sleep potion and a bed."_

"_No, no!" she shrieked, throwing punches at every piece of anything she could get her tiny fists on. "Oliver! My Oliver!" She slowly sunk to the floor, every part of her body shaking uncontrollably._

"_Come on Hermione, love," Sirius said, helping Cedric lift her. "In Harry's old room, she'll feel safest there."_

**(A/N This took me seven drafts. Seven. Full. Drafts. I think I might hate this chapter. I'm not sure.)**

**Chapter Fifty- Think Things Through First**

Tom woke up with a jolt, sending him flying into an upright sitting position. His immaculately made bed was now just a sea of twisted blankets where they had crumpled beneath his writhing body. Very slowly he got off the bed, flicking his wand to make it perfect again his noticed that his hand was shaking.

An after effect of Hermione's emotion?

He tried to dispel all the thoughts from his mind as he descended into the common room, especially the image of those staring bleeding eyes which could make any human being gag in revulsion and any human who knew of Hermione's emotion break with sadness.

"Out," he ordered the two second years, they took one look at him and scurried away faster than he had ever seen them. He seated himself in a dark armchair, staring into the depths of the fire.

The first thing his mind got a hold of was names. Hermione told him, told everyone that her name was Hermione Wembdon. He had even asked about why Cedric called her Granger and she had made up a cover story. The boy, the one who died. Oliver W- he didn't see the end of the name. It could have easily been Wembdon, and he did say they were getting married.

How much time passed between them in the kitchen and this Oliver dying?

It would certainly make sense of Hermione's name then. There was no other explanation Tom could think of. Hermione was married, nay she was a widow. Why wouldn't she have told him when he asked about her name, why wouldn't she have admitted it?

The answer plain for even Tom to see, her husband's death had hurt her immensely, the manner in which his dying was played out to her like a scene in a horror movie, she would not to talk about it, to bring it up. Maybe even she wanted to hide the fact she had once been married, at such a young age. She couldn't have been embarrassed of it, he could not imagine Hermione being ashamed of any of the actions which made her happy, but she just wanted to fit in, be normal.

No Tom could not blame her for making up an excuse as to the origins of her last name.

But what of the Triwizard Tournament? That memory had been quite blurry, but she had looked younger. Was it due to the age of the memory or the fabrication of it? Was it just a dream or a snippet of her past? Every part of his logical brain screamed 'fabrication' she could not have been in Hogwarts when that actually happened. She read a lot of books, perhaps she was reading about the tournament and those facts had somehow cumulated into a dream. That was probably it, but it would not stop him from doing a little research… what did he have?

The names Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Cedric Diggory, Viktor Krum, Oliver Wembdon, Albus Dumbledore and an unknown girl called Angelina and an older man called Sirius. Two of them were international Quidditch players, Oliver Wembdon for England and Viktor Krum for somewhere in the Durmstrang area, though Krum seemed to be the infinitely more successful.

He would have done so straight away had not his stomach reminded him that he probably should make an appearance at dinner, lest anyone should think something was wrong. As Tom walked up to the Entrance Hall he wondered at how Hermione could stand it, every time he blinked, just for a second he could see those staring, brown eyes, as though they were burned on the back of his eyelids and he had only seen it once, who knew how many times she had seen it replayed in her own head.

As he entered the Entrance Hall he saw her walking down the stairs, wearing a navy blue skirt which reached her knees and a thick white jumper, her hair was wavy and stayed in perfect place, her lips were a cherry red and her skin was paler than it had been in the dream. She looked normal and as she had done every day since he had first set eyes on her in July. Her eyes swept across the room and rested upon him, a smile spread across her features.

It wasn't the same smile.

It wasn't the same face that he had seen the dream. The Hermione stood before him was elegant, composed and kept her emotions below the surface. Even her appearance showed this side of her personality, it was perfect, nothing out of place. But the Hermione in the dream was fiery, passionate and as wild as her hair would suggest.

"You look pale," she commented as their paths crossed. "For you that's quite an achievement."

"Oh, do I?" Was all that he trusted himself to say.

"Do you feel okay?" she asked, brow furrowed in concern.

"Yes, yes of course I do, quite well. What about you, sleep well?" he asked, nonchalantly.

"Same as usual," she said, with a slightly sad smile.

Tom waited as long as possible to go to sleep that night, but the nap he had taken in the afternoon had purged him of the energy which it should have replenished.

_Tom landed in a small bedroom. The walls were decorated with dozens of Quidditch posters, most of them from an all-female team. Although it was small it had a good view of the garden beneath the window. Hermione and a girl with red hair were sat cross-legged on the single bed, facing each other. Tom could feel the deep, almost sisterly affection she had for this girl, the pride in what she had accomplished, the person she had become. There was no doubt in Tom's mind that this had been her best girl friend, she never seemed overly fond of girls outside of dreams, so this was a surprise._

_The girl was pretty, with long straight red hair that reached her waist, chocolate brown eyes, a square jaw and pale, porcelain skin, though she did not look in any way delicate._

"_I'm about to tell you something which you can't tell anyone," she said to Hermione in earnest, glancing about the room and leaning in._

"_Ginny if this is about you kissing Harry behind the broom shed then we're not twelve is there really any need to gossip in your bedroom like this," she teased, looking at her friend with mirth._

"_Hermione this is serious," Ginny whispered. "You can't tell anyone, not yet. We're going to tell everyone tomorrow when they come for dinner."_

"_What's going on?" Hermione asked, slightly concerned._

"_It's nothing like that," she laughed, a huge grin lighting up her face. "Well you know, we don't know how much time we have left… what with the… mass murderer situation, but you have to understand that I want to do this, so much. I want to do it as soon as possible, in case times runs out and the… worst happens. I want you to be as ecstatic as I am."_

"_Ginny what are you talking about?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on her arm._

"_Harry asked me to marry him," Ginny said in a strong voice, her smile only getting bigger. "And I said yes." Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw dropped._

"_Oh Ginny!" she exclaimed happily, flinging her arms around the girl. "Oh I always knew it would happen, congratulations."_

"_Thank you, Hermione," the girl said, tears starting to appear in her eyes. "You understand though don't you, why I said yes…so soon."_

"_Of course I do Gin, there is a good chance we won't be alive in six months, might as well jump in and do it before it's too late and you and Harry were meant for each other, I've said it all along," Hermione said, smiling proudly._

"_The reason I told you before everyone else is that I would love for you to be my maid of honour. Harry and I have talked about it and as a best friend to both of us, we couldn't think of anyone who could stand up there next to us and it not feel as though it's a terrible insult to all weddings stand for," she said, gripping her friends' hands tightly._

"_Maid of honour…" Hermione breathed, Ginny nodded excitedly. "Me? I've never even been a bridesmaid before!"_

"_Say you'll do it Hermione," she urged, looking at her pleadingly._

"_Of course," she said simply, a tear sliding down her cheek. "Of course it would be a privilege."_

"_Thank you Hermione," Ginny said, pulling her into another hug. "Thank you for everything, you have no idea."_

_Tom felt the scene change again and he was filled with dread. He knew what was coming. He had seen an intimate, happy memory with Oliver and then viewed his death. It was going to happen again, he could feel it. He was going to have to watch Ginny die, feel Hermione's misery and pain at seeing her best friend fall._

_He didn't want to. He wanted to get out._

_He couldn't run, he could do nothing but sit and watch as it unfolded, cursing the decision to put ancient, lasting magic on Hermione. He should have known it would turn out badly._

_He landed in a cavernous, tunnel, the walls dripping with moisture and slime, it felt vaguely familiar to him, though he had never been here himself he was sure…_

_**(AN- Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter, I woke up this morning and my unread email box was fuller than I had ever seen it before. So thank you ever so much, and I'm sorry for the cliffhanger... Not that sorry.)**_


	6. Chapters 50 plus

**Chapter Fifty One- Ginny's Gone**

_Footsteps echoed around Tom and he saw Hermione, flanked by two boys walking quickly, yet apprehensively down the tunnel, splashes rising from the damp floor with every step they took._

"_Are you scared?" The redhead he recognized from the goblet of fire dream asked._

"_Absolutely terrified," Hermione said, her voice wavering but her steps continuing bravely, blood was seeping down through her hairline and down her cheek, but she paid it no mind._

"_I think I'm to be sick," Harry said, it wasn't meant as a joke, he really was so afraid he thought he was going to vomit. They carried on walking in silence for a while, each of them clasping onto each other's hands so tightly their knuckles were white and there were crescent shaped nail marks on their hands._

"_What's that?" the redhead asked, pointing into the chamber further. There was a body, slumped up against a wall, they could make out a shock of red hair, almost identical to Ron's from their distance, but that was all. They all set off at a run, toward the figure but as they got closer screams of revulsion and despair rose in their throats. Her skin was grey, her hair matted with blood and her eyes and part of her cheekbone were missing instead there were just gaping holes in anatomy which was once perfect and beautiful._

"_Ginny," the word fell from Harry's lips like a desperate prayer._

_He shouldn't have said it._

_The trio screamed in horror as the body jolted upright, one hand reaching back and crumbling part of the stone wall in her fist._

"_What's going on?" Ron asked helplessly as they all put magical shields around themselves. "What's happened to her?" Ginny lurched forward like a zombie from a terrible muggle horror films._

"_Dark magic," Hermione whispered, tears streaming down her face. They were sure she wouldn't be able to get through their shields; crucios from the most accomplished dark wizards of the age had failed to get through their shields. They were wrong. They were very, very wrong._

_She lurched forward again, her hands outstretched toward Ron, who was closest and she went straight through the shield._

"_Ginny," he whimpered. "Ginny no." Hermione's emotions beat through Tom like a tsunami on a calm beach, whipping everything up and driving it toward almost definite destruction. Ron couldn't use offensive spells to save himself in that moment, not against Ginny._

_That moment was all he had._

_Her hands came crashing down; her thick, magically enhanced nails make quick work of Ron's face, tearing it into bloody ribbons. Hermione had to react fast, Ron was gone. There was nothing she could do, she had to save Harry. Tom could feel her protectiveness overcoming her grief and horror. She pushed back on Harry, who unawares was sent crashing backwards, with a strike of her wand she created a thick, stone wall between them and the two redheads._

"_Her brother," Harry murmured. "Killed her own brother, Ron. Our Ron." His eyes were red and puffy with misery, he looked as though he wished to tear them out and never look at anything ever again. Not when he had seen that._

"_It's not Ginny," Hermione said, falling to her knees beside him. "It's not her Harry, I promise you, that is not your wife. That is just dark, awful, destructive magic which he has put inside of her body. She is dead, she is long dead." Harry nodded and closed his eyes, silent sobs making his whole body convulse._

"_Are you afraid of death?" he choked out._

"_No," Hermione said honestly, shaking her head and gripping hold of his hand comfortingly. "Death is after all the next great adventure and nothing, nothing can be worse than what we have gone through alive. She is at peace Harry, she no longer has to watch her family and friends die around her. She is in a better place and you will join her, when it your time. You and I will both join her and she will be as lovely as she was in life." Tears were streaming down her cheeks at a rate to rival Harry's. "And Ron will be there, just as he was and he will always and I mean always love you as his best friend in the entire world Harry, they loved you so, so much." Harry's features contorted in anguish but he nodded at what Hermione was saying._

"_We can't take Ron back, we can't tell anyone what happened," he whispered. Hermione nodded, nobody should know what had happened down here. Everyone should still view them how they had been in life, brave, honest and true. "That's not my Ginny, my Ginny was good, my Ginny was everything that everyone should be. There should have been more Ginnys in the world," Harry said through gritted teeth, getting to his feet with surprising strength of mind, Hermione still remained shaking on the floor. "Why is that thing… that thing masquerading as __**my **__Ginny?"_

_Wand in hand he swept his hands up above him, the wall that kept that monster from them lifted into the air and came down with a crash onto the bodies of both Weasleys. Hermione scrambled to her feet and clung onto Harry's arm who was looking with an unreadable expression down at the rubble. As Hermione reached him she could see why._

_Laying limp, completely still just out of the rocks was one, slender, pale hand, a diamond ring shining in the semi-darkness of the chamber on one finger. Harry bent down onto one knee, and gently lifted the lifeless hand, pressing his lips to the stone of the ring before setting it gently back down again and standing up._

"_Let's not stay here Harry," Hermione whispered, pulling him gently away. Harry nodded numbly and allowed himself to be steered away._

_What Tom was shocked by the immense pain that was ripping though his own body, again but a ghost of Hermione's emotion, but the way she showed none of it now, as the pair limped away._

_As he felt her emotions he could feel why she was doing it, it was as if she had told herself that she had no right to grieve now, no right to let her misery overcome her like it so threatened to do. Not whilst Harry was here and needed her. She would stay strong for Harry._

When Tom awoke he was trembling uncontrollably, as far as he could remember he had never trembled before. But then again he had never felt such strong, tragic emotions before. The clock read just three in the morning, but he was not going to go back to sleep. Instead he went down to the common room, relit the fire and stared into it once more, trying with all his might to completely dispel anything that was remotely like a thought.

When Hermione and Cedric came down to breakfast the next morning she was berating him about the house he and Dumbledore and gone to see yesterday. He had refused to tell her anything about it, what it was like, where it was, whether he liked it, whether he had bought it.

It was becoming most irritating for her.

"Cedric Jasper, just tell me," she said poking him in the side as they entered the Great Hall.

"Nope," he said smugly, but the smile was gone when he looked over to the Slytherin table. "What is wrong with him?"

"I have no idea," Hermione admitted. "I'll come catch you up, give me a minute." With that she advanced on the pretty much empty Slytherin table and took a seat next to Tom.

"You look bloody awful," she said bluntly, and he did. His usually immaculate clothing were askew and in disarray to the point where the buttons were done up wrong. His hair was sticking out at all angles as though he had been permanently running his hands through it but the most worrying was his eyes. Huge dark circles were under them, making him look gaunt and harrowed and they were staring, unfocussed on the milk jug. "Tom?" she asked gently, placing a hand on his arm. He jumped as though he had not heard her up to this point.

"Hermione," he breathed, looking at her in wonderment. How… how could she have watched the same thing he had last night, it was horrific for him and he didn't even know those people, as Hermione's closest friends she must have felt so much pain watching that, yet here she was not even thinking about it, worrying about him. How did she become so strong?

"What's wrong?" she asked concernedly.

"I'm not feeling well," he said hoarsely, his eyes burning into hers. Hermione frowned and lifted a hand to his forehead.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" she asked.

"Two hours?" he guessed, with a shrug.

"Why?" she asked.

"I couldn't sleep," he said dismissively, shrugging his shoulders as though it was no big deal.

"I could get you a sleeping draught from Dumbledore" she offered. "He gives them to me all the time." He shook his head vigorously.

"Are you done with breakfast?" Hermione asked out of the blue. He nodded. "Come on then," she said reaching out for his hand. He looked at her in confusion. "You can't do anything else today, look at you. My greenhouse hasn't seen you in a while." He nodded once and took her hand, as they left she had a sort of mimed conversation with Cedric across the hall, Tom looked away, he could not bring himself to look at the that boy he wanted to loathe so much, but just couldn't find it in him to hate anymore. He had saved Hermione's life; he had comforted her when Oliver died. He couldn't loathe him. Not after that.

After Hermione had finished telling Cedric where she was going she tugged on Tom's hand a little, he was gazing off into the distance, alone with his thoughts again.

"Come on," she said tenderly, giving him a small smile. "You may refuse to sleep but you can still rest." As Tom looked into her shining brown eyes he felt an emotion he had never felt of his own accord before, regret.

He was sorry he had invaded her privacy by joining her dreams, not only because they were haunting his waking moments as well as his sleeping ones but because of the girl who was staring up at him with concern, who was putting her plans for the day with her best friend on hold so that she could make sure that he was okay. Suddenly he felt a trickle of disgust in himself, somewhere deep within his stomach.

This was low.

**Chapter Fifty Two- Relief in Affection**

"Your Herbology project is very different from mine," Tom commented as they walked into the tropical heat of the greenhouse.

"How so?" she asked, pulling off her cardigan and laying it over a branch.

"You have made an ecosystem rather than a greenhouse, it's quite exemplary really and you have a mix of magical and non-magical plants, Sprout likes that kind of thing," he said, impressed.

"One of the conditions that I was allowed to come here when I was in the Hospital Wing was that I didn't touch dangerous plants," she explained. "There is nothing better for one's soul when you are feeling under the weather than a hammock in a banana tree."

"You have hammocks?" he asked in slight disbelief.

"No," she replied. "I have one; I wasn't expecting anyone else to come in here."

"Are you scared of dying?" Tom asked, phrasing the question carefully.

"No," Hermione said simply, giving no outward sign that it was an out of the ordinary question, or that it had been nearly the same one which she had heard upon the death of two of her best friends. Tom was exhausted and it was all he could do here, lying in a hammock with Hermione tucked into his side to not fall asleep. He twirled a piece of her hair absentmindedly through his fingers.

"Why?" he asked. Hermione still did not seem fazed, as though this was a question she had answered a million times before.

"Everybody dies, why should I live my whole living in fear of the inevitable?" she asked, her eyes still closed.

"There are ways of gaining immortality," Tom said cautiously.

"No there aren't," she said breezily. "No one has yet found a way to live indefinitely. They either give up, accept that their life and has been long and prosperous and greet death, or they go down in flames, bringing down other people with them."

"That is because they are not strong enough, not good enough to do it properly," he replied, defensively. Hermione just chuckled.

"Whatever you say," she responded, running her finger in circles over the soft material of his shirt. "Personally I would not like to live forever."

"Why not?" he asked.

"It is the natural course, to be born, to live, to die. Death is but the next great adventure," she ended in almost a whisper.

"Are you afraid of other things?" he asked.

"Absolutely petrified, but I've witnessed enough death, been in so many near death situations myself that if I were afraid of passing on, I would have already scared myself to death without any other help," she said, laughing slightly as she did, but there was no mirth behind her laugh, only sick, twisted humour in something which was painfully true. Tom kissed her cheek lightly.

"I won't ever let anything happen to you," he murmured, as she heard his promise she turned slightly so she could look him in the eye.

"Then you're going to have one hell of a job on your hands," she said calmly. "A little danger is exciting."

"Gryffindors," he said dryly, casting his eyes to the ceiling. Hermione chuckled lightly and laid her hand softly on his chest. After a while Tom opened his mouth again. "Have you ever been in love, Hermione?" At this she stiffened slightly but did not hesitate in her answer.

"Once… maybe one a half," she admitted, unashamedly.

"Tell me about it," he said, not in the demanding tone she was expecting, but in a gentle and interested way.

"The first time, I thought I was in love, he didn't speak very good English actually and was older than me, he played Quidditch for a living and was intelligent and brave and very famous. It didn't work out between us evidently but looking back, even then at fifteen years old I was never to naïve to believe it would, I realized afterward that I never loved him, I loved the fact that for the first time in my life a boy gave me romantic attention, most of my friends were boys and I never got that. I was just the bookworm best friend. How it should have been of course. He was what I consider the half, an exciting half" she said softly. "And Oliver, you asked me about him, remember?" Tom nodded once.

"I remember," he said. "Cedric's best friend." Hermione nodded and buried her head into Tom's side again. Tom relaxed slightly at this gesture and could feel his eyelids treacherously lowering, but he was too tired to care.

"_Oliver?" Hermione asked distrustfully, she was stood in a darkened hospital wing, her voice hushed. "What are you doing?"_

"_I need to see Potter," he said firmly, his broad figure just recognizable in the moonlight._

"_You shall do no such thing," she said back with equal vigour. "He needs his rest." He opened his mouth to speak but Hermione put a hand up to silence him, glancing at a bed by the window. One figure was lying on the bed, tucked up beneath the covers, another was hunched over him, sat in the chair by his head. "Out, we'll speak about this outside."_

_She made him march outside and their faces were illuminated by the torches hanging on the walls. Tom could see clearly their difference in ages, Hermione looked about fourteen, her Gryffindor robes crumpled from where she had been sleeping in the same position as the other friend at Harry's bedside. Oliver was wearing a house Quidditch uniform still, his captain badge pinned to his chest._

"_I have to speak to Potter," he repeated._

"_You can't," she said simply._

"_I'm going to speak to Potter," he said trying to push past her. Hermione was too fast for him, her wand was in her hand and he was sent flying backward along the corridor._

"_You will do no such thing; it is two o'clock in the bloody morning! I do not give a damn about whether you want to speak to him or not, he is injured and you are only going to go and berate him about something that is not his fault," she said sternly, sounding very much like a teacher would, scolding a pupil out of bed._

"_Or what Granger?" he asked, getting out his own wand. Hermione laughed bitterly. _

"_Do not push me Oliver, I have gotten about twenty minutes sleep today after seeing my best friend fall hundreds of feet off a broom do not make me curse you," she said menacingly._

"_Please, you're just a third year," he scoffed._

"_Expelliamus!" she hissed and his wand flew from his hand. "Just a third year with two wands."_

"_Listen Granger," he said warningly._

"_No, you listen. You are not going in there. Go and get some sleep and deflate that huge Quidditch ego of yours. You lost the game because dementors made him fall, oh boo hoo," she said spitefully._

"_I've been working for years at this!" he defended, fists balling. "You have no idea what that cups means."_

"_He could have died today and all you care about is that you lost the match!" she said, her voice restrained although it was obvious she wanted to scream and shout. "All you care about it that stupid damn cup, I care about my best friend Oliver, I do not care about the cup."_

"_That is unfair I care more about Harry than just as a seeker, he is my friend too," he said defensively._

"_Then bloody well act like it and let him sleep," Hermione spat, tossing his wand back to him. "Good night Oliver, try not to let Quidditch overtake your dreams as well." With that she closed the door, although Tom was sure she would have slammed it had she not been careful of the two boys sleeping. He could feel her anger prickling through him as well as her._

"_Granger," Oliver greeted, looking sullen and out of place in the library. "I wanted to apologize." Hermione looked up from her book in surprise, pushing her curly hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry for being such an arsehole to you that night, what I did was out of order and I'm sorry." He sounded as though he was forcing it out. "I will try my best not to put the game before the players again… especially when you're around."_

"_That is quite alright Oliver, you can't help it that you're a Quidditch maniac," she said with false sweetness. "Just try to win the next one, if you lose to the Slytherins I will be coming after you with a Bat Bogey Hex."_

"_Right you are Granger," he said with a slight chuckle of indifference._

"_I'm always right," she said, picking up her quill again and resuming writing. Oliver just rolled his eyes and walked away. "Quidditch idiot," she muttered under her breath. Tom wondered how they could have gotten from that, where he could feel Hermione's dislike for him in his own body and see Oliver's dislike for her on his face, to that kitchen scenario. What had changed between them?_

_Tom landed, more softly than he had ever done in her dreams before, in a raining street. He recognized it, it was obviously Hogsmeade and he remembered it, he remembered the rain, this very rain. He turned look for Hermione and there she was, sprinting toward him. A beaming smile lighting up her face, making her eyes glimmer with vitality, the same look he had seen her with, with her old friends, the one he thought she had somehow lost. Him in the past didn't see it, didn't recognize it, he was behind her and obviously not looking very hard. He watched as an image of himself came up behind her, enveloping her in his embrace._

_He hadn't noticed it then, but here in this Hogsmeade street, dripping wet and smiling like he had never seen her smile before he realized that this was the most beautiful he had ever seen her. Make up smudged and hair now dark tendrils, rain flowing in little streams down them and onto her cloak. He wasn't sure whether it was her joy he was feeling now or his own. It was a relief to see her dream about him, being happy with him._

They both woke, Hermione falling straight back to sleep, pressed into his side, and Tom's eyes opening wide and alert. Once he was sure she had dozed off again he shifted slightly, to look at her. Her long hair was falling over her face, he brushed it away with the gentlest of touches, exposing her serene face and calm expression. Tom noticed with satisfaction that her lips were turned up slightly at the corners. She had dreamed about her distaste for Oliver and her happiness whilst around him.

He tightened the arm which was curled around her, rubbing circles on her shoulder blade as he looked at her forearm, perfectly concealed under a layer of magical glamour was that hideous scar, it was almost blasphemous, marking and deforming something so perfect. How could anyone have ever wanted to hurt her? How could anyone overlook the brilliance than shone from her, want to crush that intelligence, wit, bravery and strength? Because she was strong, no doubt about that he had never known someone to be able to witness the horrors she had and still wake up every morning, a stoic smile on their face.

Of course he had no idea just how intelligent, brave and strong she actually was- he had only seen what she had seen in her dreams, not what she had suffered through herself.

"Whatever it takes," he murmured, pressing his lips to her soft, vanilla scented hair. "Whatever happens, I will protect what is mine."

**(AN- In answer to questions along the strain of how I update so fast, the honest answer is that I am going to fail my GCSEs because I would rather write new chapters each day, than revise. Oh well, Maths exam tomorrow :D Thank you all again, for the reviews, alerts and favourites I never thought I would get over 300 reviews in a million years. So thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you all, tell me if you want something put into this story because I will do it! Cedric falling off a hippogriff, say the word. Dumbledore using his pants as a parachute as he jumps off the astronomy tower, you got it. Okay that was a lie. I won't do that, even you tell me that is what you would like. They're a little far-fetched, you get the idea though, right? This authors note is really long, sorry about that. The Dumbledore's pants thing is starting to grow on me... )**

**Chapter Fifty Three-Christmas Cheer**

"Cedric," Hermione said, drawing out the i. He looked down at her, resting in his lap.

"Hermione," he replied mockingly, also dragging out the i. It was almost Christmas Eve, ten to midnight and they had come back to the Common Room after visiting the Owlery to post presents to their friends so that they could drink steaming mugs of hot chocolate and eat the marshmallows they had toasted on the fire.

"Do you like Claudia?" she asked simply.

"Of course I like Claudia," he replied as though it was obvious, putting a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

"I mean romantically," she elaborated, bluntly. He sighed and stared into the fire.

"It's not that simple," he said eventually, a smile lit up Hermione's face.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said happily.

"I mean it, it's not that simple," he repeated.

"What do you mean?" she asked, frowning as she looked up at his torn expression.

"I like Claudia, there is no point trying to deny that, but I can't have a relationship with her, it wouldn't be fair," he said, looking distant.

"Why?"

"Because everything she knows about me is a lie," Cedric said quietly, the regret evident in his tone. "Everything I have ever told her has been false; she doesn't even know my real name. How could I knowingly engage in a relationship with her, understanding full well that I can never tell her everything, I can never be completely honest with her. What happens if she gets in too deep, we care about each other too much and then she finds out that all this time I have been lying to her. I can't take a chance on hurting somebody that badly."

"Who says you can't tell her?" Hermione asked softly.

"What do you mean?"

"If you get to the stage where you are in no doubt of her or your own feelings and intentions toward her, just tell her. Gently of course, maybe a bit at a time, but tell her. If you go along on the basis that you are suggesting, then you may never be close with anyone from _now_. Unless you plan on being alone for the rest of your, hopefully very long life then you will have to make a choice either to tell a few select people, perhaps just the one, you will be stuck with picking between me and Dumbledore. As attractive as dear Albus is I feel Claudia would be more suited to you."

"Do you think so?" he asked, looking down at her again.

"Yes," she replied. "I know so."

"_Hermione!" Tom had no idea where he was, a forest or wood of some sort obviously but other than that he was a loss. The clearing was illuminated with the feeble winter light, just permeating the sparse canopy above._

"_Cedric!" Hermione shouted, tearing through the clearing, the leaf litter crunching and falling to pieces beneath her boots._

"_Merlin Hermione I thought you were dead," Cedric said, his voice thick. Hermione flung her arms around his shoulders, he clung to her desperately, crushing the two of them together in an almost bone breaking embrace. "I thought I'd lost you." The gently rocked back and forward, one of his hands was buried in her hair, the other clutching the back of her jacket, just on the shoulder blade._

"_You haven't got rid of me that easily," she joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm bleeding all over you."_

"_Are you seriously injured, are you in pain?" he asked anxiously._

"_No, not at all," she answered._

"_Then I don't care, I don't care at all," he said, tightening his embrace and lifting her off his feet. "Never, ever am I letting you do anything remotely dangerous by yourself again."_

"_I didn't do it by myself, Harry and Ron-"she started._

"_Rumour has it you fought one of Gringotts' dragons," he interrupted, setting her down on her feet again._

"_That's a lie and more your scene," she replied good-humouredly, he audibly sighed in relief. "I rode it all the way to Scotland."_

"_You did what?" he asked furiously._

"_You heard," she replied, rolling her eyes, her lips turned up in a smirk._

"_That is extremely dangerous you could have died, that's why I thought you had died!"_

"_It was a choice between that or definitely die," Hermione said placidly, still smiling as though she was exhilarated. "You may have fought a dragon but I rode one for hours."_

"_Merlin I worry about you sometimes," he said, shaking his head and holding her out at arm's length. Both their t-shirts were covered in Hermione's blood, but she was still beaming. "Or all the time, come on lets go fix you up, Remus is playing doctor today. He's inside." He motioned toward the small tent at the back of the clearing._

"_Okay," she said happily. "Harry and Ron will be here in a minute, they apparated back to drop the sword off with Dumbledore, they told me to come here and get patched up, I'm the worst off."_

Tom woke with a start, the dream had not been alarming or really that informative but never the less he flailed away from his bed. Jumping out of the curtains and into the deserted dormitory he pointed his wand at the bed.

"Lumos!" he said urgently. There was nothing there apart from the blankets and pillow now strewn across the sheets. In the split second of not being aware whilst waking up Tom had the unsettling feeling that he was not alone, and it was a hard one to shake.

Putting his wand back onto the bedside table he dropped back down onto his mattress, rubbing his temples. There was no one in this dormitory, but the feeling of company was undeniable, there was only one explanation, the feeling of companionship had leaked through from Hermione

Who was she sleeping with?

Since there were so few people staying at Hogwarts over the holidays Headmaster Dippet had arranged their Christmas Day for them.

"Good morning," Hermione said as she and Cedric slipped into the two spare chairs between Tom and a Ravenclaw seventh year girl. "Merry Christmas."

"Indeed," Tom said, putting a chaste kiss on her lips. The hall was bedecked with a dozen; frosted trees all decorated with glimmering balls of light, like otherworldly baubles.

"It's odd not being allowed to open presents until after lunch," Hermione sighed. "Last year Cedric and I were up at five."

"And that is not a story we tell people," Cedric cut in, with a grin. "I have an image." Hermione laughed slightly and shook her head.

"Feliz Navidad!" Dumbledore said, taking the seat opposite Cedric, next to Professor Sprout.

"Does everyone speak Spanish in this place but me?" Cedric muttered, just loud enough to make Hermione laugh. "Merry Christmas, Uncle Albus," he then said in an audible tone.

There was big affair with pulling crackers, each diner being forced to don a novelty hat. Hermione had to supress a smirk as Dippet placed a crown on Tom's head, chortling jollily about how it suited him. Tom did not look amused. Hermione and Cedric were wearing a golden, pointed tantour hat, with a cascading veil down the back and an admiral's hat.

"I had to wear one of these in a school play when I was little," Hermione laughed. "Very Maid Marian."

"I just wear these for fun," Cedric said with a straight face, adjusting the brim.

After a long and delicious meal of which the highlight was either the roast potatoes… or the moment one of the miniature Father Christmases that whizzed around the table, like they were skating on an ice rink, crashed a gravy boat, covering Dumbledore and Sprout in gravy, Dippet banish the table and ordered Dumbledore to transfigure the benches they were sat on into chairs.

Once they were all sat in a big circle, lounging in chintz armchairs with full stomachs, presents came streaming through the door. Dippet had intercepted the owls so now all their presents landed in piles at their feet. Hermione was surprised to see that her pile was one of the largest in the room.

She plucked a small box from the top, adorned with a pretty golden bow. She unwrapped it with care and lifted the lid. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the beautiful silver pendant which rested within deep emerald cushions. Her fingers shaking slightly she lifted the necklace by the dainty silver chain and gazed upon the locket. It was large, flat and circular, engraved with swirling patterns and flowers, it looked like it was made from pure silver. She unhooked the fastening and exposed what looked like a watch face, but instead of numbers, in tiny calligraphy were words. _Wonderment_, e_xcitement, joy, affection, envy, malice , sorrow, disappointment, repentance, fear, surprise, bravery, _Hermione quickly fastened it around her neck, where the locket rested just on her heart, she watched as the hands changed- they flicked to wonderment and surprise. It reminded Hermione of cross between the Weasley family clock and a muggle mood ring. In awe of this beautiful piece of jewellery she reached for the note which was tucked into the box.

_Dear Hermione,  
I saw this and instantly thought of you and your good graces.  
I hope you are well and having a merry Christmas._

_Yours, Abraxas Malfoy_

"Who got you that?" Cedric asked, also impressed whilst performing a check for love potion on a box of sweets given to him by a girl in fifth year. "That's another one," he sighed, tossing it to the side.

"Abraxas," Hermione said, still admiring it.

"Malfoy?" Tom demanded, Hermione nodded. "Abraxas Malfoy?"

"How many other Abraxases do you know?" she asked, watching in concern as Tom's jaw set and he looked increasingly moody. Instead of worrying about his stupid possessiveness she reached for her next present, which looked suspiciously like a book, she read the card first.

_Merry Christmas Hermione, we hope you like our present. For some of it we even went to Tarasov himself, he does have his uses.  
We hope very much to see you soon and we cannot wait to meet Cedric also, you have told us so much about him. And the other person of course, but you still have not informed us of what exactly is going on there. Remember my request.  
With love, Alina, Antonin and Veniamin._

Hermione smiled at the note and unwrapped the gift, it was a leather bound photo album. Opening the first page brought an even larger smile to her face and she glanced down to see that her 'watch' had now turned from surprise to affection but still rested on wonderment, the first photograph was one which Alina had forced them to take on her first proper day at Durmstrang, when the four of them had gone on a bit of a hiking expedition. Surrounded by the striking scenery of the frozen lake the four of them stood huddled together, waving and smiling, Tom leaned over to her, having opened his presents quickly- pretty much all books, Hermione noted from the corner of her eye.

"That's a fantastic hat you are wearing," he said dryly, Hermione only smiled.

"It was a present from the boys," she said fondly.

"Oh are these your friends from Durmstrang?" Cedric asked, also leaning in.

"They mentioned you in their note, how much they want to meet you," she said, turning the thick page. To see two more photos, one of Hermione and Krum engaged in a particularly intense game of exploding snap and the other of Hermione putting a marshmallow up Dolohovs nose, both taken the common room in the middle of the snow storm.

"They seem nice," Cedric commented. "Open mine next!"

"Okay," she said, picking up the largest box, which could have fitted a small child inside. She hoped it wasn't a small child, she was pretty sure that kind of thing was frowned upon in Hogwarts. Undoing the ribbons wrapped around it, she opened the large box. Her eyebrow raised and she turned to face Cedric. "Was there any need for the box?" she asked, plucking the small gold key from the bottom of the massive box.

"I thought maybe we could play it in later, make a fort," he said sarcastically, grinning from ear to ear.

"Thank you," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "But may I ask what this key opens?"

"You'll see," he said suspiciously, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Cedric," she said warningly.

"It's a surprise," he said. "I know how much you love surprises."

"Fine," Hermione said, slowly leaning forward as if to pick up another of her presents. Speedily she reached forward and grabbed one of Cedric's instead, the one from her and held it at arm's length away from him.

"You may have your surprise when I have mine," she said, with a smirk.

"Hermione," he whined, trying to reach for the box. "This isn't very fair."

"You're such a fan of surprises," she said, but handed him the box anyway.

"Thank you," he said happily, opening it. Inside were the Quidditch boots she knew he needed, a jar of broom polish and a bottle of passion fruit shampoo. "Hermione!" he exclaimed. "How did you get this!" He pulled her into a hug, she laughed at his excitement. "I didn't know you could get passion fruit shampoo here."

"Well I made the special effort," she said. "Your hair has been looking lack lustre since you stopped using it. It's really for my own benefit of not having to look at it being dull anymore."

"If I weren't so excited about this shampoo I would have hexed you by now," he said contentedly, kissing her on the cheek.

"You really are something else Cedric I hope you know that," she said condescendingly, patting him on the knee. Both of them laughed and Hermione turned back to see Tom staring at them, one eyebrow raised and a look of mild distaste on his face.

After their presents had been opened and Dippet had bored them with a speech about the joys of Christmas they were allowed to go and enjoy the rest of the day how they pleased, not that there was much of it yet.

Hermione, noticing Cedric was deep in conversation with his Ravenclaw neighbour made the choice to follow Tom, who looked as though he was seething about something.

"Tom," she called, running with as much grace as she could muster after him. He didn't reply, just carried on walking, opening the door to a classroom angrily so that I banged into the wall with a loud noise. "Tom," she repeated too late, his wand was out and he was jabbing it into the air furiously, the stone of the disused classroom walls shattering in small explosions. Hermione fixed them as he went and the dust and fragments soared back into their original position, packing tightly together. "Tom what on earth," she said, closing the door behind them and clasping his wrist gently, stopping his wand from moving.

"Can you tell me why a total of six Slytherin males thought it appropriate to send _my _girlfriend expensive gifts?" he questioned through gritted teeth as he turned toward her.

"Tom please, are you honestly getting upset about this?" He didn't answer but still looked at her, as if demanding an answer. "I have classes with them every day and I gave them gifts as well, they all came and visited me in the hospital wing. We're friends and they are posh, rich purebloods who are under the impression that girls always require expensive, pretty trinkets as gifts. It's the way they were raised, they are Slytherins after all, is it really that surprising?"

Tom's expression did not soften, Hermione moved her hand from his wrist to his own hand, he wrapped his fingers automatically around hers.

"I can't give you that," he said measuredly, eyes boring into her own. Hermione could tell what he was thinking and let out an exasperated laugh.

"Tom do you hear how ridiculous you sound?" she implored. "I am a muggleborn orphan who can only pay for tuition fees because of Dumbledore's generosity. You only bothered to get upset about what the Slytherins bought me, the Gryffindors all bought me things like Sugar Quills, scarves and photo albums. I like them better. They probably cost a fraction of what some of the things that people like Abraxas bought but they were something I will treasure infinitely more because of who they came from. You don't truly believe I could be so superficial?"

"They had no right to buy you such presents," he said, though slightly less irately. Hermione shook her head and stepped toward him, brushing his fringe to the side with her fingers.

"You really feel threatened by mere Christmas presents?" she asked.

"I do not feel threatened," he corrected resentfully, eyebrows knitted in disgust and outrage.

"Then what's the problem?" she asked, looping an arm around him.

"You are not theirs," he said firmly, crashing his lips possessively to hers. Hermione felt his hands wind in her hair, pressing her as close to him as was possible, he was positively claiming his ownership of her and for once she could find it in her to care. It was a strange feeling when his hands left her and instead a box was pushed into her hands. She drew back to look down.  
A modestly wrapped gift, as she looked back up at him, he pressed his lips to hers, softly this time.  
"Merry Christmas," he murmured, his voice husky and almost… sweet.

**(AN- Thanks and lots of love to ShimmeringWater, who wanted a peice of jewellery. I got another request which I shall do in a few chapters time, because it was a good one and requires some planning. If anyone else some, keep 'em coming :-) Good luck guessing what Tom gave Hermione though -Oh and thank you to everyone who wished me luck in my exams!)**

**Chapter Fifty Four- Gifts and Proposals**

Hermione unwrapped the present nervously, her fingers fumbling on the wrapping paper. When she finally opened it she held up the gift to the light. It was a thick, silver cuff bracelet, the words _placidum soporem_ engraved upon the inside, where it would rest upon the veins in the wrist.

"It's Latin for peaceful sleep," Tom murmured, studying her face. "I know you have nightmares sometimes and it's meant to stop them." Hermione looked up into his dark eyes, they were shining with uncertainty.

"It's perfect, thank you," she said earnestly, stepping on to her tiptoes to give him another kiss.

"I do not understand why this is necessary," Hermione huffed indignantly, crossing her arms in protest at being led from the castle blindfolded.

"It's all part of the surprise," Cedric said happily, leading her carefully out of the school gates.

"I hate surprises," she retorted bitterly.

"Hold on tight Granger," he said, she could practically hear the grin that was no doubt plastered to his face as he linked their arms.

"Why what are we-" her sentence was cut short as she felt herself being pulled into slide-along apparation by a hook behind her navel. "Where are we?" Hermione demanded as she felt her feet fall onto cobbles.

"I give to you, the village of Little Hangleton," Cedric said, sweeping the blindfold of her eyes. Hermione blinked, disorientated as she took in the bright, winter light which fell upon the small high street. They were stood next to a baker's shop.

"What on earth are we doing here?" Hermione asked, recalling exactly what Little Hangleton contained and what it had meant for the two of them in the past.

"You'll see," he said with a small, knowing smile. Hermione pulled her coat tighter around her, scarf, hat and gloves already on to keep out the chill. Cedric offered her his arm, in case her heeled shoes slipped on the frosted cobbles and they set off at a leisurely walk.

"I cannot think of a reason why we would come here, of all places," Hermione muttered to him. "You almost died here remember?"

"Oh, like it was yesterday," he replied, still smiling. "Come on."

Hermione frowned as they walked out of the village, a large stone house stood on the hill in front of them.

"Cedric…" she said in a low voice. "Have you temporarily lost your mind? Where are we going?"

"To that house there," he said, pointing to the ominously familiar manor house.

"Why would we want to do that?" she asked, glaring at him and in some ways dreading the answer he would give her.

"Because I bought it," Hermione stopped walking abruptly. "You did what now!" she demanded, Cedric chuckled but pulled along with him again.

"Albus and I came this way at the beginning of the holidays, you remember? Well we decided that for the continued wellbeing of the older members of the Riddle family, that they should be relocated," Cedric said cautiously, trying to be tactful.

"In case of a little visit from our mutual friend Tom" she said dryly.

"Anyway," said Cedric, skimming over the topic. "How we got them to decide to move to Cornwall was by a wealthy and affluent son of some lord in London offering them stupid amounts of money for their house."

"You played the lord's son then I assume?" Hermione enquired.

"That I did," he confirmed. "I got to wear rather a fetching waistcoat and inspect the masonry as though I actually knew what I was doing."

"Impressive," Hermione said with a nod. "So now you own the Riddle House?"

"Ah, you're catching on," Cedric said happily as they approached the gates, he opened them with a discreet flick of his wand. "Although I think it's creepy if we keep the name."

"And this is going to be your house when you leave Hogwarts…" Hermione stated.

"Correct," Cedric said, then pointing to the end of the formal gardens where a small, stone cottage stood. "That is _my gardener's _cottage." He waggled his eyebrows and smirked at the term. Hermione shook her head and smiled.

"Frank Bryce?" she asked.

"Yes, how do you know that?" he asked.

"Albus told me, at one point he thought that Voldemort killed him to make Nagini into a horcrux, before he knew about Bertha Jorkins," she said sadly. "Before the Quidditch World Cup he was murdered, by Voldemort himself." Cedric's grip tightened on her as he felt her upset increase. "More than my parents got." Cedric put an arm around her and pulled her into an embrace.

"Not anymore," he murmured. "Come on, I've got something important to show you."

After a quick tour of the large and beautifully furnished house, they came to the last room on the top floor.

"Go on," Cedric said to Hermione, nodding toward the door. She reached out and tried to turn the golden doorknob.

"It's locked," Hermione said, frowning and looking back to him, he was smiling broadly.

"What did you put on your necklace on Christmas day?" he asked. Hermione looked at him, her bewilderment showing in her face, but still she reached for her necklace and took the key from it. She put it in the lock and slowly turned it, it clicked open and Hermione pushed the door so that it swung open. The room it exposed had walls that were completely covered in bookshelves, of the magical and muggle variety. It was in an L-shape and Cedric led her past the deep, brown leather arm chairs and desk which acted as a sort of study, in view of the door and showed her the large, four poster bed with deep red hangings and covers. A door was either side, one which led to a small clothes closet and the other to an expensively furnished bathroom.

"This is for you, when you come and stay or if you wanted to live here with me after you graduate too," he said. Hermione flung her arms around him.

"This is wonderful," she squealed. "Are you sure? I mean thank you and everything but a whole huge room to myself?"

"For you Granger? You can have as many rooms as you like. I just thought you'd like this one better, hence why I stocked it up with books for you," he said generously, lifting her off her feet as they hugged.

_Tom landed a field, lined with hedges and with a view over the grey, choppy ocean. The day was bright and clear, but there was a strong and violent wind which whipped the hair of the occupants of the dream, of which there were many. There were thirty people in black, billowing cloaks and sinister silver masks which bore a resemblance to the faces of skulls. Opposing them were around the same number of people dressed in odd, muggle clothing, who looked hardly old enough to have left school._

_Tom searched hurriedly around Hermione and when he spotted her, he could only look on in shock. She was on the far right of the battle, her hair pulled back messily into a pony tail high on her head, she was expertly duelling two of the hooded figures with supreme skill and speed but most shocking of all was what she was wearing. Tom almost choked when he saw the shorts she was wearing, denim and cutting mid-thigh paired with a loose white t-shirt. He had never seen a girl dress in such a fashion, but when he looked around he saw that most of the girls who she was duelling with were wearing the same sort of attire and showing the same amount of flesh. None of them were wearing skirts either. How strange._

"_Hermione," shouted Oliver, who was duelling next to her as his opponent fell and he stepped sideways to take over one of hers._

"_Yes Oliver," she replied, her concentration obviously not on him at all as she ducked a dark spell and carried on duelling._

"_Marry me," he said, not looking at her but sending spells feverishly._

"_What?" Hermione asked in surprise, turning her head for a fraction of a second, before recovering herself and refocusing her attention on her adversary._

"_Everyone is getting hitched, what about you and me? Fancy being Mrs Wood?" he asked surprisingly casually. Tom's stomach plummeted._

"_Are you being serious Oliver?" she asked in disbelief, still battling fiercely with her opponent._

"_Deadly," he said, punctuating his reply with an unexpected spell toward Hermione's rival which sent them to the floor. Hermione started sending spells at the person Oliver was duelling instead. "Hermione Wood, it has a ring to it don't you think?" He stole a look at her, his face confident as he gave her a wink._

"_You're mental," she said, shaking her head but beaming, with one exceptionally powerful spell the cloaked figure crumpled._

"_Hermione Jean Granger," Oliver said dropping to one knee. "I don't have a ring nor do I have the time to say anything romantic. Will you be my wife?"_

"_You have possibly the worst timing of anyone I have ever met," Hermione said, shaking her head but looking exuberantly happy as she clasped his hand and pulled him to his feet. "But of course I will." Oliver grinned triumphantly and placed a hand on the small of her back, pulling her in for a kiss. Both were smiling too much for it to last very long. Probably for the best after all. "Come on," Hermione said, setting off a run and pulling him after her so they could help the rest of their companions._

_Tom's fists clenched. Wood. His last name was Wood not Wembdon._

**(AN- Thanks to Shan84 who made me rewrite the first part of this chapter because gave me an idea in a review which was ten times better than my original one.)**

**Chapter Fifty Five- Happy Birthday**

"I thought I'd find you here," Hermione said, Tom looked up as the door opened but turned back to watching the view without saying anything. She wondered what could be wrong with him, if she didn't know any better she would have said he was sulking.

Of course a sulking Tom Riddle was not very likely… maybe he was brooding, or stewing in his own contempt for mankind up here alone on top of the Astronomy Tower in the cold… on his birthday.

"I ran into Slughorn on the way back from breakfast, he told me something very interesting," she said as she went and sat, a little apart from him, Tom just continued to stare resolutely forward. "He told me that today, was your birthday." Tom waited a little before responding with a controlled shrug of the shoulders. "I got you a present, admittedly at such short notice I stole it from the boys dormitory, but it's the thought that counts," she said with a small smile, removing a box of chocolates from behind her back and setting it down next to his leg. Finally he turned to look at her, a distant, cold look in his eyes which seemed to slowly melt as he looked at her. "Tom, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

"Nothing," he replied, his voice sounded forced.

"Why didn't you tell me it's your birthday?" she asked instead of trying to force an answer out of him.

"Didn't seem important," he answered. "Besides I don't know when yours is."

"It was in September," she said.

"Oh," Tom said with a frown.

"Oh?"

"You're older than me," he said, looking off into the distance again. Hermione thought for a moment.

"I suppose I am," she replied, it had never occurred to her that she was older than Tom, being born half a century after him. "Have you eaten anything today? You weren't at breakfast." He looked blankly at her. "Tom," she said warningly, she knew how disagreeable he got when he didn't eat enough. And disagreeable for Tom was something to be avoided at all costs.

"Fine, I'll eat something," he said, ripping open the box of chocolates and putting on in his mouth. "Happy?"

"Chocolate is not exactly a nutritious meal," she said. "I was thinking more… toast or fruit. Something that would-" she looked at Tom. "What's wrong with you?" His face had broken out into a beaming smile, which almost looked unnatural compared to his usual mask of indifference.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed. Hermione leaned away from him, an alarmed and almost repelled look on her face . "I love you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're so… you're so…" he reached and grasped her hands. "Lovely." Hermione looked at him with a scared expression, his eyes were wide and his tone of voice doting. Her eyes flicked from his face to the box of chocolates and she swore violently. She had stolen those of Cedric… he must have not checked them for a love potion.

This could not end well.

Tom looked down at the chocolates too, following her gaze and reached his hand out toward them.

"No!" she shouted, whipping out her wand and destroying the box with a blast of flames. "You'll… get fat," she made up as an excuse for her oddness.

"You're so talented and always doing what's best for me," he said adoringly before pressing their lips together with a sweetness which would definitely not come from an undrugged Tom.

"This is so strange," Hermione said as she was enveloped in a hug, Tom's hands running through her hair.

"Your hair is so soft…" he said contentedly, eyes closed as he breathed in. "And you smell so nice."

"You know where smells better!" Hermione said, with false excitement. "The dungeons… let's go there right now!" She needed to get him to Professor Slughorn and quickly, this was getting very strange. "Come on," she said pulling him to his feet by the hand.

The stairs down the Astronomy Tower were much easier to negotiate when you did not have someone trying to put his tongue down your throat every step, as Hermione found out.

"What is going on here?" A familiar and amused voice asked once they reached the sixth floor. Hermione froze and slowly looked around, to be met with the inquisitive stares of Dippet, Dumbledore and Sprout.

"We're in love," Tom declared proudly, wrapping his arms around Hermione and planting a kiss on her cheek. The professors' eyes widened and Hermione wormed her way out of his grasp.

"What he means to say is that he needs to go and see Professor Slughorn _right now_," Hermione said, smiling falsely whilst batting away his hands.

"Pray, what has happened to dear Tom? He is usually so…." Dippet said, trailing off.

"Love potion," she replied, elbowing him in the ribs.

"You slipped him a love potion Miss Wembdon?" Professor Sprout asked. "That is very much against school rules."

"No, no I didn't," she said quickly before pausing. "Oh Merlin I suppose I did."

"Would you care to explain yourself?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"You see its Tom's birthday today and I didn't find out until this morning when Professor Slughorn let it slip so I didn't have a present for him. So Cedric said that he had some left over boxes of chocolates and stuff from Christmas and to just give him that so I did but then he ate a chocolate and got all weird so I think maybe a girl sent those chocolates to Cedric with a love potion in to make the recipient go all… weird… on the person who gave it to them, so when I gave them to Tom he went all weird on me and now I need to get him to Professor Slughorn to sort him out," Hermione said not pausing for breath.

The professors couldn't supress their chuckles.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like him to stay like this," Dumbledore suggested, the humour not having left his voice as he surveyed Tom resting his head happily on Hermione's shoulder. "He certainly is more… affectionate." Professor Sprout giggled so hard her hat fell off. Hermione glared at him.

"Go go my dear, do not listen to Albus, he jests," Dippet said. "Get Horace to fix him up."

"Thank you Professor," Hermione said. "Good day… oh and please don't mention this to him ever because when he gets back to normal he probably isn't going to be very happy with me."

"It wasn't your fault Hermione dear, but we shall say not a word. Chop chop," Dumbledore said waving them away.

"Hermione," Tom said, stretching out her name and looking at her longingly as they reached the fourth floor corridor.

"Yes Tom," she replied irritably, he was being most difficult and wouldn't just walk with her. He dropped to his knees.

"Marry me."

"Oh Merlin," Hermione muttered, before an idea formed in her mind. "Of course I will Tom!" She replied excitedly. He jumped to his feet and kissed her fiercely.

"Marry me now!" he insisted squeezing both of her hands and nodding his head.

"Of course!" Hermione said, still faking enthusiasm. "You know who can do that?"

"Who?"

"Slughorn!" She replied. "He's in his office… he could marry us right now."

"Let's go!" he exclaimed almost running as he pulled her along by the hand. At least he was going faster now. Thankfully they met no one else on the trip to the dungeons, when they reached Slughorn's office Tom rapped on the door loudly and stood, tapping his foot impatiently until the door opened.

"My, my, what can I do for my two favourite students?" Slughorn asked happily as he opened the door.

"Marry us," Tom replied quickly, not leaving time for Hermione to intervene, Slughorn chuckled but faltered as he saw the serious look on his face.

"Tom will you excuse us for a moment?" Hermione asked sweetly.

"Anything for you," he replied, beaming as his gaze shifted to her.

"Okay…" she said, pushing him backward and beckoning Slughorn over the threshold. "Stay right there." She shut the door and told the potions master a hurried version of that morning's events.

"Do sit down Miss Wembdon," he chuckled, opening the door to Tom, who still stood, unmoved right outside the doorway. "Come in Tom m'boy, we'll have you married in no time."

"Ah… this should do the trick," Slughorn said as he extracted a small vial of bright pink liquid off the top shelf of his storage cupboard. "As long as it's nothing too fancy and complex this simple remedy should do the trick." He crossed the room and handed it to Tom. "Drink this up."

"But-"

"Just drink it!" Hermione demanded.

"Okay," he said, gazing at her fondly, Hermione had quickly become tired of his overly affectionate nature.

It was creepy.

He raised the vial to his lips and drained it, closing his eyes and grimacing at the taste. Slughorn and Hermione watched as he slowly opened his eyes. Hermione's heart soared with relief as she saw his expression become a sour scowl.

"I think I'll let you handle this," Slughorn said merrily, patting Hermione on the shoulder. "I'm going to go and get some lunch in the Great Hall. Lock the door on your way out." Hermione nodded and watched anxiously as Tom stared resolutely in front of him, seemingly horror-struck.

"Do you… happen to remember any of the past hour?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"Please tell it was some kind of hallucination," he said in a low voice.

"I'll take that as a yes then," she said, biting her lip.

"Let me get this straight… I told you I loved you…"

"Mhm."

"I felt you up in front of the headmaster."

"And my godfather… don't forget him."

"Dippet and Dumbledore and Sprout…."

"Very real…"

"I asked you to marry me…"

"Again painfully real."

He did not reply to this and instead just continued to stare directly in front of him, his muscles were tight, his shoulders brought in close to him and Hermione was sure that he was trying to take every memory of today and lock it in the furthest reaches of his mind, never to be uncovered again by his consciousness.

"Happy birthday," she said weakly, smiling hopefully. He turned his head to her and looked at with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. She bit her lip again. "On the bright side… we're on a par with the whole… poisoning each other fiasco and we can get married this afternoon," she joked.

Tom closed his eyes and let out a breath before pursing his lips shut- which may have been him supressing a laugh… but could have also been a grimace of pain.

Hermione reasoned that they were both one in the same where Tom was concerned anyway.

**(AN- I apologize for the lateness of this chapter it was due to 'family issues' so I'm awfully sorry :-D Also thank you to Shan84, who said she wanted Tom take a love potion. This chapter was creepy to write.)**

**Chapter Fifty Six- Three's A Crowd**

"Are you planning on being angry at me for very long?" Hermione asked curiously as she and Tom walked into the Entrance Hall, he was eating toast and looking haughty and resentful.

"Forever," he said, taking another large bite but giving her a wicked look.

"Ha ha," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. He smirked as he chewed and reached out for her hand, entwining her fingers with his own. "Your hand is all crumby," she moaned, wiping the back of his hand on his jumper, he just shrugged and popped the last bite of his piece of toast into his mouth.

"It's snowing again," Tom commented.

"Congratulations, and what does the weather do in summer?" she asked, smiling innocently.

"It's good to know your humour is so broad and witty," he replied smoothly, pulling her into him.

"It's a real gift," she responded. "I really am sorry I poisoned you though. I had no idea that those chocolates contained anything other than…well chocolate really."

"We'll call it even," he responded. "Although you're ordeal was longer and more painful, mine was infinitely more scarring."

"I can imagine you waking up in terror for the rest of your life," she responded.

"All because of you, I should get some sort of compensation for it you," he said, a smirk spread across his face as he leaned in to kiss her.

"Hermione!" they both jumped as they heard her name being called from the stairs.

"What?" she asked loudly, spinning round as Cedric came sprinting toward her.

"We have to go!" he said urgently tossing her cloak to her.

"What?" she asked, clutching hold of the heavy material.

"We have to go now!" he urged, gesturing for her to go quickly.

"She doesn't have to go anywhere," Tom intervened, placing a possessive hand on her shoulder. Cedric turned slowly to look at him, his face full of distaste.

"What's going on Cedric?" Hermione asked, stepping toward him and regarding him with worry.

"Dumbledore, he's gone to…." he trailed off, looking at Tom who was eying him with mistrust and intrigue.

"Do what?" Hermione pushed.

"Fight Grindelwald," he said in a hushed tone.

"What!" Hermione asked, jaw dropping slack. "Now?"

"Yes," Cedric said nodding fervently.

"What… but… he can't do that!" she said. "Now? Are you sure?"

"Right now," he insisted.

"Okay, let's go," she said, in shock at Dumbledore doing something so big over a year too early as she put on her cloak.

"You're not going," Tom said sternly.

"Excuse me?" she asked, turning round to look at him as she fastened her cloak.

"It's dangerous," he pointed out, Hermione heard Cedric let out a laugh from behind her.

"I'm going Tom," she said calmly. "Even if I have to curse you to get you out of the way." Tom didn't reply for a second and they stood there, eyes locked in a battle, Hermione was not going to back down and he could see this from the look in her eyes, she was determined.

"Fine," he said. "But I'm going with you."

"Oh no," Cedric said firmly stepping in beside Hermione. "We are not taking him. This is not a trip to the theatre that we can bring just anyone along on."

"Cedric's right, it's too dangerous," Hermione said. "You have never done anything like this before."

"I'm seventeen, legally an adult," he pointed out to Hermione, obviously not giving a damn what Cedric thought. "And I'm just as good at duelling as you are."

"This is not the same as practicing spells in class," Hermione said.

"Well then, this will be a good education," Tom said. "I'm not letting you go alone." Hermione hesitated for a second trying to think of a way to get him to not want to come.

"Fine, bloody well come we're wasting too much time as it is," Cedric gave in. "But don't say we didn't warn you. Can you even apparate?"

"No," Tom said, only his eyes betraying his humiliation at not being able to do advanced magic that both of them could.

"Do you have your wand on you?" he asked, patronizingly.

"Of course I do," he said, chin rising in defiance.

"Well that's one thing," Cedric responded. "Slide along with Hermione. Now come on, we have to get to the gates before we can leave and I swear if you get anybody else hurt with your incompetence you will not be coming back."

"Way to break the tension, _Ced_," Hermione said sarcastically. "Now come on, you're wasting time."

They ran as fast through the grounds as they could, Hermione's cloak drawn tightly around her head and all of their feet sinking into the already settled snow. Tom and Cedric were only wearing jumpers, but because they were running they did not feel the cold, it was evident however in their pink cheeks and the snowflakes that clung to their hair and eyelashes. As they ran Hermione asked what Cedric knew about the situation, Cedric replied the best he could, having to breathe deeply between phrases.

"It was in the Prophet that Grindelwald had announced early this morning, that he was going to try to take over all the educational establishments in Europe. Although there was no definite threat towards Hogwarts because it's not on the mainland and of course because we have Albus here, it is still a possibility. Grindelwald announced that he would start with Beauxbatons and then go to Durmstrang his old school and take over."

"I have to owl Alina!" Hermione exclaimed, eyes wide with fear for her friend.

"Yes you do, you have to invite her and those other two to mine in the summer," he said in an odd, business like tone. "Anyway, Albus made a statement that he was coming to the aid of Madame Maxime and her school. The Aurors, spurred on by Nancy no doubt, are also going as we speak, to back him up. Nancy managed to hack into the Floo Network and got a message to Gryffindor tower to tell us to get to France with them."

"Why didn't Dumbledore tell you himself?" Tom asked.

"He works in mysterious ways and I cannot say for certain, but judging by what we know I can make an educated guess," he replied.

"That he didn't know the aurors were shipping out until he was already gone and he didn't want us to be put in danger at the terrible odds we had without them?" Hermione offered.

"Great minds think alike," Cedric replied, Tom rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Cedric used his wand to swing open the heavy, cold metal gates and they sprinted across the threshold of the school.

"First time apparating?" Hermione asked breathlessly as they skidded to a stop on the icy road. Tom nodded in response. "You're going to hate it."

"I threw up the first time I apparated," Cedric said smugly.

"You were very drunk the first time you apparated, because you grabbed hold of Tonks' hand as she left the pub and then you came into the hall, vomited on yourself and then fainted," Hermione said, smirking. "We had to carry you up four flights of stairs to bed and put you in the recovery position whilst you slept it off."

"Oh the memories," he said fondly. "I hope you have the same luck. Let's go."

**Chapter Fifty Seven- The Battle of Beauxbatons**

The three of them landed slightly unsteadily on frozen grass, mainly because Tom landed wobbly and Hermione had to use all of her weight to keep him upright. He looked a little queasy, but not as if he was going to vomit or faint. That was a start.

They were stood in a large meadow, the flowers and grass frosted as though they were encased in glass. It was overlooked by a shimmering palace, Hermione had never been to Beauxbatons herself before, but it was exactly as Fleur had described it to her, with walls that glistened with gold and silver and pale blue flags magically flying proudly from the roof. The windows were large so the rooms must be bright and airy; Hermione noticed also that there were faces at the windows. The students were watching.

Had it been any other event Hermione would have loved to look around, to see the palace and grounds and compare it to Hogwarts and Durmstrang, unfortunately this was not an option as she was reminded as a dark spell shot past her ear. The aurors were outnumbered at least three to one, but were fighting valiantly. Above them, was a huge sculpture, the pride of Beauxbatons; their carriage and winged horses. On top of it two elder men with white beards and long robes stood duelling one another. Hermione had wondered about this battle thousands of times, Dumbledore versus Grindelwald, she had wished she could have seen that duel and learned the techniques and now she was here but she couldn't stop and watch.

"Nancy!" She yelled, dropping Cedric and Tom's hands to rush into Nancy's fight. She was sending spells at six different soldiers.

"Took you long enough pet," she replied as a greeting, Hermione took up stance next to her. "Oh… you brought both pretty boys along I see." Tom and Cedric similarly unsheathed their wands and make quick work in joining the combat. "Ah the new one has some moves," she commented, he was in the peripherals of her vision.

"He insisted on coming," Hermione said, ducking as a hex flew over her head.

"Will you two stop gassing!" An auror with a bushy grey moustache barked. "This is not a knitting circle!"

"Oh go boil your head!" Nancy shouted back, as she sent more spells toward her opponents, making two of them fall.

The battle was fierce and soon Nancy and Hermione split up, the latter then taking on three very large looking men.

"Aren't you too young to be here poppet?" One of them leered as she erected a shield, bouncing his spell back to one of his comrades. "I thought all the girlies were hiding up in the school. I'm sure with your skills the commander would take you on. We would certainly enjoy your company." Hermione gagged and sent a particularly potent cutting hex at him, his arm gushed warm, thick, sticky blood and he screamed in agony, she took the opportunity to send him into unconsciousness.

"Granger!" she heard before she felt a heavy load pushing her to the floor and strong arms holding her down. A dark spells whipped through Cedric's hair, just missing his skin, where Hermione's shoulders had been just seconds before.

"Merlin," she breathed as they stood up again. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Cedric replied, as they took up stance, back to back. "Gets the blood flowing doesn't it?"

Hermione laughed but did not falter with her spell casting.

"It's good to know you can find humour here," Tom shouted to her, he was quite close to the pair.

The amount of opponents seemed endless, but still they persevered, later Hermione saw Tom defeat the last of the men he was fighting. Usually he cast spells with a lazy arrogance, but today instead he fought with determination and vigour, he looked like he was actually trying. She allowed herself to take her eyes off her own adversary to make this observation for just for a second. Just a second was all it took.

A dark green bolt of magic sped toward her, impacting with her shoulder and sending her recoiling back. She gritted her teeth but could not contain her scream as white hot pain seared through her collar bone. She looked down and through her blouse she could see her flesh turning a sickly, putrid green. She then felt herself being pushed back again, but this time somewhat more gently, by a body.

"I'll cover you," Tom shouted, sheltering her between his and Cedric's bodies as he took over her opponents. "Stop the spread." She nodded gratefully and ripped the shoulder off of her blouse, her pale blue sleeve also falling to the ground. She gritted her teeth as she pointed her wand at herself and performed the spell to stop the gangrenous flesh infecting the healthy tissue next to it; she would have to see a healer to sort that out properly, it was not something that was easy to heal on oneself.

Tom and Cedric both visibly flinched as they heard her cry out in agony as she performed the spell. She was shaking something terrible as she cleaned the flesh afterward. As it cleaned she looked at the two boys before her, they were _kind of_ working as a team… how odd. Tom's jumper had been torn to shreds, some of which still hung from his white shirt, his slacks were covered in blood. Someone else's she hoped. Cedric was looking remarkably untouched, which was a pleasant change, given his past battle injuries. Touch wood.

Finally, after her ministrations were complete she could use her shoulder again and she was just ready to re-join in the fight, she had stepped out of the shelter of the boys as a deafening boom resonated throughout the meadow, all eyes were turned to Dumbledore and Grindelwald, for just a second the battle paused, but it was quickly resumed, nobody trusted their rival not to curse them whilst they were watching.

The two mens' spells had collided together and produced an explosion, sending both men falling backwards and Dumbledore's wand flying out of his hand and landing too far behind him… in two halves.

"Albus!" Hermione shouted running forwards, he looked, face etched with worry. With her good arm she threw her wand to him, he caught it and continued with his duel.

Hermione was defenceless.

She watched in horror as a soldier advanced upon her, his wand raised and a look of smug satisfaction playing on his face. She ducked as his spell came whizzing toward her, then she jumped as one came at her feet.

"Can't dance forever dear," he leered.

"Hermione!" Came Cedric's shout from behind her. She turned and _just _caught the wand that he had flung at her. Cedric's wand in hand she sent an unexpected hex at her challenger, he was sent flying backwards, eyes rolling back into his head. But now Cedric was without a wand. Before she could turn and chuck it back to him something happened which changed Hermione's view on the world completely.

"Cedric!" Tom shouted. Hermione's heart almost stopped as she saw another wand flying through the air; Tom's.

Tom had thrown his own wand to Cedric.

Cedric seemed shocked too, but quickly recovered, using it to floor another one of Grindelwald's men. Hermione shouted to Tom and chucked the wand she was using to him. She took this moment to wrench up her skirt around her thighs.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing Hermione," Tom yelled angrily at her, always the prude.

"Saving our arses!" She yelled back. She pulled her skirt up some more, revealing a thigh holster, in which two spare wands were stowed.

However she did not get the chance to use one. A bright light erupted from Grindelwald's wand, making everyone turn to watch the main battle. A ball of blinding light came spinning toward Dumbledore, who erected a shield to save himself. But Grindelwald's spell was too strong, although the ball was burst and did not hurt him; it ruptured scattering fragments of light about him. One of them fought it's way through the shield and Hermione screamed as it hit her wand, and it exploded into splinters.

She screamed for the loss of her faithful wand and for what she thought was Dumbledore's defeat. But then she realized that Grindelwald's wand was soaring toward him, he had taken a leaf out of Harry's book and had cast a disarming spell before the ball of light had reached him. He caught the Elder Wand in his fist and used it to tie up Grindelwald. Everything was silent.

"It is a great shame, Gellert. Yours was a waste of talent which many other worthy wizards could have done miracles with. It saddens that you made the wrong decision all those years ago," he said wisely, sadness radiating from his tone, he turned from him and addressed the head of the auror office. "Get him a cell in Nurmengard, where he might find repentance," he said gravely. "Would anybody care to join him?"

Cracks of disapparation sounded very swiftly after that question, every one of his men, who was uninjured enough to, did so, and fast. There was a collective sigh of relief from those left standing which quickly turned into a round of applause for Dumbledore who waved it off as nothing but lowered himself from the height atop of the statue. The first thing he did was not to go and see the minister, the head of the auror office or Madame Maxime.

He walked to Hermione, he hands pressed together and a humble look of gratitude and regret on his face.

"I am both exceedingly proud of you Hermione and terribly sorry," he said gravely, not noticing that all eyes were on them. "You won me that duel by passing me your wand and I apologize that it is now ruined."

"It's fine," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Your wand Hermione," he said gravely.

"It's nothing," she responded, waving it away but not trusting herself to talk more about it. "Come on you must have bruises from the fall."

"Would you like it Hermione?" he asked, laying the Elder Wand in his palm.

"No, thank you" she said graciously. "That wand is a lot of responsibility, and I am old and wise enough to know that it is better off in your capable hands, besides you earned it. Nicely done Albus."

"Are you certain?" he asked, surveying her over his spectacles.

"One hundred per cent," she said, noticing the proud glint in his eyes only strengthen at her words. "Come on, see a mediwizard." He nodded and left her, staring at the broken fragments of her wand on the plinth.

"Well done," came a whisper from behind her, she pulled her gaze away them.

"You too," she replied, giving Tom a small, sad smile.

"Come here," he said, pulling her into his embrace. She hissed slightly as pressure was put on her shoulder and she was reminded of the biting pain, which returned with vengeance. "Here," he said, brushing her hair off of her wound. "I can fix that for you."

"Thank you," she replied unsurely as Tom started unbuttoning his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"Half your blouse is missing, put this on before I have to curse everyone in the vicinity," he said, in a low voice.

**Chapter Fifty Eight- The Evening Prophet**

Before long all those who could be spared from St Mungos and its French counterpart had apparated into the field and had set up a temporary hospital. Hermione being sufficiently patched up by Tom before they arrived took up the position of healing some of the aurors with one of the spare wands she carried.

"Tell me when it feels cold," she instructed the man with the bushy moustache who had yelled at her and Nancy earlier. "It will take a few minutes." She continued to point her wand at his neck.

"Hey Cedders," Nancy said with a weak smile as he rushed over to her and took the jumper from her stomach to examine the wound.

"Merlin Nancy!" he reprimanded. "You should have been fast tracked to the head of the queue! Tom can you go and beg, borrow or steal a blood replenishing potion from the French please, we've run out." Tom nodded once and disappeared.

"That kid is good," Nancy said, through gritted teeth as she moved onto her side to let Cedric take a better look. "He saved my life."

"And it will be wasted if you don't stop moving," Cedric said, holding her still whilst he examined the gaping hole in her side.

"His names Riddle right?" she asked. "The one I met when I visited Hermione."

"Yeah, we didn't want to bring him but you know what Slytherins can be like when defending their girlfriends," Cedric muttered.

"Aw Ced, are you in love," she teased, chortling at him.

"Stop that! Laughing makes you bleed more!" Cedric said worriedly. "And you should talk to Hermione not me."

"You never told me that!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Why do you think?" Hermione muttered, tending to her own patient.

"It's cold!" She removed the wand from the auror's neck and placed two fingers on his pulse point.

"How does that feel?" she asked, wrapping a bandage around his arm.

"A lot better, thank you Miss Wembdon," he said politely, obviously trying to make up for earlier.

"You're very welcome Sir, try not to put too much weight on that wrist and you will have to go into St Mungos next week to get blood thinning draught. Try not to do too much cardiovascular exercise between now and then, I expect a healer could give you some better advice," she said in a business like tone. He nodded respectfully and assured her he would.

Tom reappeared by Cedric's side.

"I got one," he said, lifting the vial to Nancy's lips.

"Nicely done, but how? They didn't seem very keen on sharing when they had so little themselves," Cedric said.

"I'm not wearing a shirt," he replied simply with a shrug. Nancy and Hermione both let out a laugh.

"Do you want your wound to reopen?" Cedric asked.

"Oh calm down Cedders, give it an hour and we'll be down the pub, right as rain," she said happily.

"Is that all aurors do when they clock off?" Tom asked. "Last time Hermione came back drunk and I had to carry her up the stairs." Nancy laughed heartily again, offering her another rebuke from Cedric.

"To be fair to her," Nancy said as she calmed down. "She did loss a lot of blood, she hadn't eaten in a while and she drunk most of the other aurors under the table."

"She's exaggerating!"

Hours later three teenagers stumbled into the Entrance Hall, Dumbledore had left them earlier to go to the ministry and so they had been left without any kind of supervision. All very full of charmed, wriggly chips and various beverages bought for them by doting members of the public who had already read about the day's events in the evening edition of the Prophet.

"Is it after curfew yet?" Hermione stage whispered as they crept past the giant hourglasses that displayed house points.

"Yes," Tom replied, wobbling slightly as he went down the steps.

"Please don't tell me I have to take you to bed this time," she said smugly.

"Anytime you like," he replied mischievously, raising his eyebrows at her, eyes glinting. Hermione smacked her palm to her forehead realizing what she had said. Cedric chuckled too, earning him a dirty look from her. They all froze as the candles on the stair illuminated and the door opened. They all stood up straight quickly and watched with wide eyes as five shadows came stretched across the wall.

"Oh thank goodness!" Came a shriek. Madame Finchley came bustling toward them, her skirts billowing behind her. "Oh you've all been so brave!"

"Calm yourself Margery," Dippet said as he also advanced upon them, flanked by Slughorn, Sprout and Merrythought.

"Have you been seen to, no wounds?" she asked, feeling all of their foreheads.

"We're in perfect health," Cedric assured her, Dippet came to them and clapped Tom and Cedric on the back, before squeezing Hermione's hand.

"Well done all of you," Professor Merrythought said, smiling broadly.

"Cracking good show," Sprout said proudly.

"You've made history you know!" Slughorn gushed. "Already in the Prophet."

"Oh do give the paper to them Horace, we will have the article framed and place it next to their _special award for services to the school_!" Dippet said, pushing his chest out importantly. The trio smiled happily. Slughorn pulled out a copy of the Evening Prophet.

"You have a double page to yourselves you know, second only after Albus," Slughorn said.

_The defeat of dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald was assisted by three courage and intelligent Hogwarts students. Cedric Amos, Tom Riddle and Hermione Wembdon all apparated to the scene of the battle mere minutes after it began and aided the aurors in their battle Grindelwald's army. Cedric Amos, charming, valiant and all round amiable great-nephew of Albus Dumbledore himself, is in his seventh year at the prestigious school and holds the position of Head Boy. After battling courageously with the auror department he, along with his school mates spent their time using very advanced healing spells to help those in need. He and Tom Riddle were responsible for healing senior auror Nancy Boardridge who was quoted as saying that she had met each of the teenagers before and cared for them all very deeply, she wished to thank Mr Amos and Mr Riddle for healing her of her stomach wound. She expressed her supreme gratitude to Mr Riddle again, claiming that he saved her from sustaining a probably fatal curse to the chest earlier on in the conflict. Tom Riddle, is currently in his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is a Prefect for his house and is suspected to be announced as Head Boy for the following academic year, this July. The handsome Slytherin believed to be in a relationship with fellow sixth year prefect Hermione Wembdon, who he treated after the battle._

_Miss Wembdon, goddaughter of Albus Dumbledore played a special and heroic part in Dumbledore's victory. The uncommonly brave and beautiful Gryffindor sustained a wound, inflicted by a full frontal Gangrenous Curse which impacted in her left shoulder. After doing the incredibly advanced and painful piece of magic which stopped the infection from spreading which allowed her use of her shoulder on herself she aided her godfather after an unknown collection of spells caused both him and Grindelwald to be propelled backward, which resulted in Dumbledore losing his wand. In a plucky act of bravery and intelligence under pressure Miss Wembdon threw her own wand to him, which although it left her unprotected from Grindelwald's men, eventually cast the winning blow, which caused Grindelwald to be defeated. Unfortunately the wand,- believed to be a ten and three quarter inch vine wood wand with a dragon heartstring core -was destroyed in the process. It is expected that Hermione Wembdon will be making a trip to Diagon Alley in the very near future to purchase a new wand, though it is unknown whether she will have her old wand remade, or have a different, premade wand chose her as its master. It is known however that Hermione, being an extremely intelligent witch who also helped with the healing process of many aurors, including Head of the Auror Office William Tawdry._

_The ministry have announced that they wish to officially honour them and Albus Dumbledore; this is presumably with an Order of Merlin. Although it is only speculation at this point, Professor Dumbledore will presumably be awarded a First Class and the teenagers with a second or third. There is after all, plenty of time for them to earn that First Class another day. It is also clear that these three individuals are shining examples to the wizarding youth of today and have bought a great amount of respect to their school and professors. If there was ever any doubt about the teaching at Hogwarts School these three exemplar students have hastened its departure. As beacons of hope for the younger generation and idols for the entire wizarding nation these Cedric Amos, Tom Riddle and Hermione Wembdon are definitely ones to watch in the future._

They all finished reading at about the same time, but didn't say anything. Hermione looked up, once to Cedric and once to Tom, each looked uncomfortable about this article.

"Does my hair really look like that from the back?" she asked, smiling broadly and pointing to one of the many photographs which adorned the article. Cedric and Tom both started laughing loudly, leaving five very confused teachers eying them curiously.

"We forgot!" Cedric said.

"Forgot what?" Hermione asked.

"It's New Year's Eve," he pointed out, looking at his watch.

"The students are having a little get together in the clock tower," Professor Sprout informed them.

"Thank you," Cedric said. "Now if you will be so kind as to excuse me it is already half past ten and I need to go and find someone to kiss at midnight. Good evening."

"Err… me too!" Hermione said happily, side stepping the teachers. "I'm not kissing him," he gestured to Tom and smiled cheekily before running after Cedric. Tom was fast to follow, he offered no explanation.

**Chapter Fifty Nine- I Know Miss Granger.**

Hermione and Tom opened the lock on the door at the top of the Astronomy Tower and stepped once again, out into the dark, cool air. The snow had not stopped, but it had not blown under the wide precipice which shielded the balcony like a roof. The walked hand in hand across the wooden promenade, Tom pulled a button off his shirt, which Hermione was still wearing and transfigured it into a thick blanket, which he wrapped around her shoulders.

"Won't you get cold?" she asked, he shrugged but did not speak. "Tom," she said, a small smile on her lips. "You must remember that I am wearing your shirt and you are just wearing a rather fetching vest, it must be you who will get cold first." She tried to remove the blanket from her shoulders but he held it there.

"You've been injured," he pointed out.

"How about you wear the shirt then, if I keep the blanket?" she suggested. He shrugged again. She moved to undo the rest of the buttons but took an intake of breath as she moved her shoulder in a way it evidently did not want move.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, running his fingers ever so lightly over her shoulder.

"Only if I contract that muscle," she said. "Would you mind?"

"Okay," he said, slowly and gently undoing each button, neither of them looked at each other whilst he did it.

"Thank you," she said as he slipped it over her bad shoulder and down her arms.

"My pleasure," he said, his dark eyes burning into her own.

"Thank you for what you did for Cedric," she said.

"I didn't do anything for Cedric," he said, still his eyes were locked with hers.

"You passed him your own wand and you didn't have to," Hermione said.

"I didn't do anything for Cedric and I did have to," he repeated.

"But-"

"I dislike Cedric, the only thing that keeps me from cursing him off of the top of the astronomy tower is your obvious attachment to him. Which by the way I can see no plausible reason for, given his countenance."

Hermione knew not of the secret that he held, that he could not have allowed Cedric to be hurt, not when he had saved Hermione's life.

"Then why did you actively help him?"

"If he had been hit by a curse there are two possibilities, one; he would have died or two; he would have been injured. Either way _you_ would have been inconsolably miserable and would have dropped everything to help him and there would be chance that you would have been hit with one as well and you could have died." He said. Hermione was silent. "I could not allow you to deal with the distress of him dying or being gravely injured and I would not allow myself to have to go through the distress of the same happening to you… that would make _me_ inconsolable." Hermione took an intake of breath which she hoped that he did not hear, and moved her hand up to his cheek, caressing the soft skin. With as little movement in her shoulder as she could manage, she gently guided his face down to hers, pressing their lips together. His hands crept to her waist, where he placed them gingerly, lest she would break beneath his fingers.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I'd have liked to believe maybe it's because he's growing on you but thank you for helping him."

"But unfortunately it's you that has already grown on me," he said.

"I'm sorry you're birthday has been such a travesty," Hermione whispered.

"It's been my favourite birthday," he said softly.

"Why?" she asked.

"I got to duel lots of people, without having to worry about hurting them too much and you're here," he said. "That makes it top of the list."

"I didn't even get you a proper present," she pointed out.

"But you're here and you're safe and relatively unharmed," he said. "That's even better than chocolate that _isn't_ laced with poison." Hermione gave him a small smile.

The dull sound of the clock tower chiming rang through the night air.

"Happy Birthday Tom," Hermione said on the seventh ring.

"Happy New Year Hermione," Tom said on the twelfth, pressing his lips to hers.

"Hermione."

"Yes Tom," Hermione said, not looking up from her work.

"Talk to me," he requested firmly, she sighed and pulled her wand out from behind her ear, prodding one of the plants she was researching with it.

"I _am_ talking to you," she said in a level voice, squinting and leaning in closer to the leaf. "Could you pass me that bottle please." He rolled his eyes and passed her the spray bottle that was placed next to where he was leaning.

She was engrossed with her Herbology project and Tom was being quite infuriating.

"I mean actually_ talk_ to me," he pressed. She sighed again and rose from her crouching position.

"What did you want to talk about?" she asked, pocketing her wand and stepping away from the tree she was documenting the progress of. "I'd like to point out that I don't disturb you in your greenhouse, it really is wonder I let you in here."

"I mean _talk_ to me," he repeated, ignoring her last comment in favour of capturing her hand and pulling to the ground with him, so they could sit on the cushioned grass of her greenhouse.

"You have my undivided attention," Hermione said slowly.

"What do you want to do after seventh year," he asked her, without the usual conversational air of someone asking this question.

"I haven't quite decided," she said, a crease forming between her eyebrows. "Why what you doing?"

"I… I want to go to Albania to learn from the warlocks there," he said mysteriously, holding her hand still.

"Don't treat me like a fool Tom, I know exactly what Albanian warlocks are famous for, Dark Magic," she pointed out, looking at him disapprovingly. "What use do you have for them?"

"They possess much knowledge which is withheld from those seeking it in England," Tom said with a shrug. "That is not the point."

"Then please continue," she said, her eyes still narrowed. "Enlighten me as to the point."

"What happens to us?" he asked. "After graduation." Hermione surveyed him, but he was giving nothing away from his expression.

"That depends entirely on the circumstances," Hermione replied.

"Would you care you explain that?"

"Well," Hermione said breaking their eye contact and shrugging her shoulders. "If I get so annoyed at you by the end of this year that I hex your ears off, you're probably not going to want to see me after graduation. Equally, you could hex my ears off and I probably won't want to see you either-"

"You'd leave me for such a small offence as leaving you earless?" Tom asked, quirking an eyebrow. Hermione looked at him with a deadpan expression. "If we are still together at our graduation, what would happen to us?"

"That depends entirely whether you still wanted to be with me afterward," Hermione said.

"I can say with a high degree of certainty that I would still want that," he said.

"Well then," she said with a shrug. "If we both want it then it might happen."

"Why only might, if it's what we both want?" Tom asked.

"Not everyone gets what they want Tom," Hermione said, Tom continued to look at her with an air of incomprehension. "For example, if you went to Albania to study the Dark Arts you would do so alone, without me as your girlfriend," her tone was matter of fact.

"Why?" he demanded.

"For lots of reasons, I wouldn't want us to be in a long distance relationship with you off doing dangerous and morally questionable things. I would be here, in Britain doing what I wanted to do so I couldn't go with you. And that would be a moot point because you and I would never reach an agreement about Dark Magic in the first place so chances are by the time you went we wouldn't be together anyway," Hermione said simply. Tom nodded once, he remembered her dream, her memory of her two friends dying, Ron and Ginny, done by powerful Dark Magic. He could understand her aversion to it.

"What do you think I should do?" he asked curiously.

"I can't answer that for you," Hermione said. "It's a very personal decision."

"Play career advisor for a minute," he instructed. "Just tell me." Hermione didn't say the generic 'politics' which he had heard so many times, no she did not say this because she did not trust him not go mad with the power it wielded.

"Department of Mysteries," Hermione replied after a while. "I couldn't imagine you doing anything which did not pose as a challenge for you and that would certainly the place to go."

"An unspeakable," Tom said, rolling the sound over his lips.

"Or you could go private, you don't have to work for the ministry," she pointed out.

"Why don't you talk about us?" he asked. "We could do something together."

"You'd want to do that?" she asked, Tom nodded once, a smile crept onto her face, betraying how she felt. "What did you have in mind?" He shrugged his shoulders casually.

"We could do anything," he said. "We're two of the most intelligent students Hogwarts has ever taught."

"We could go hunting strange creatures in the Amazon," Hermione laughed.

"Discovering a cure for lycanthropy."

"Breaking curses in Egyptian pyramids."

"Translating runes in Peru."

"We could do everything," Hermione sighed, both of them now grinning at the other. "But you'd really want to… with me?"

Tom cocked his head to one side.

"I can't imagine doing it with anyone else," he said.

"Even alone?" she asked.

"Your company is preferable," he murmured. "What's the point of seeing the world without you?" Hermione's grin evolved into a beaming smile and she rocked forward onto her knees, planting a firm kiss on Tom's lips.

"So when we are forced to go and meet with the career advisors we tell them that we don't need their help because we are going to go and do everything that they are too unimaginative to do?" she asked with a glint in her eye.

"Exactly," he said, pulling her into an embrace, tucking her head under his chin. "We'll tell Slughorn we are going to become potioneers, starting our own company. He might be so happy he will have a heart attack and we'll get a new teacher." She elbowed him in the ribs.

"We can make potions," Hermione agreed. "There are hundreds of potions which can be improved and developed."

"While we're in Peru we can get half of them up to scratch," Tom joked. "The other half can be done in the week leading up to Christmas."

"Do you mean it?" Hermione asked, not looking at his face.

"What?"

"That you want to be with me even after graduation," she said.

"I couldn't bear being separated from you," he said, pressing as kiss to the top of her head.

"You say that now," Hermione said, but Tom could hear the humour in her voice. "But when I make it onto the chocolate frog card before you, you're going to be awfully upset." Tom laughed and shook his head. "It's a very real concern of mine," she said playfully leaning back to look him in the eye.

"Hermione if I ask you something, will you tell the truth?" he asked suddenly serious. Hermione frowned.

"That depends on the question," she said evasively.

"Hermione," he said warningly.

"Fire away," she said.

"When were you born?" he asked, eyes betraying no emotion but curiosity.

"Two in the afternoon," Hermione replied, raising her chin in defiance.

"I mean the year," Tom prompted, expression still holding no malice. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione was silent and her eyes widened, how much did he know? What was he going to do when he realized how much she lied to him?

A familiar smirk tugged at his lips.

"Oh, I know."

Her fears were confirmed.

_**Chapter Sixty- Logical Reasoning**_

Tom's expression was curious but had an underlying smugness about it. He was pleased with having figured out her secret and Hermione could see that.

He was just daring her to lie to him again.

"1979," Hermione said clearing, not allowing herself to look ashamed for lying to him.

"That late," he said, tone conversational as if they were talking about what time she went to sleep last night. "And what brings you to 1944?"

Hermione stayed silent for a moment, surveying him.

"Finishing my education," she said quickly. "Are you angry at me, for not telling you?"

Tom frowned.

"I would have been seriously disappointed if you had told me," he replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Telling a teenage boy you had no previous knowledge of, would be an extremely foolish thing to do and it is common knowledge that your intelligence is the most alluring thing about you," he said reasonably. "Now before you continue to answer my previous question honestly… are you leaving?"

"What?" Hermione muttered, gazing into the eyes of the boy in front of her, she could have sworn she saw a flash of fear. She couldn't be sure, maybe it was wishful thinking but she was convinced she saw that glimmer.

For losing her.

"No, I'm not going back," she said, recovering herself and shaking her head. "Here all century."

Tom allowed himself a small smile and squeezed her hand.

"Good, now why are you here?"

Hermione bit her lip as she contemplated what to tell him.

"In my time there is a war, well there is two, about twenty years apart, but the first was before I was born. Wizarding wars. I fought in the second, I had… kind of an important role. But neither side won, it got to the stage where the ministry had fallen, Hogwarts was a pile of ruins and so many people had died that magic would have died out in the next few decades. There were physically not enough magical people to repopulate," Hermione explained with a pained expression.

"So you came back to save them from that fate, to stop the wars from starting," Tom confirmed. "To save the magical race."

"Correct, I suppose, I never really thought about it like that," Hermione said.

"Why did they start?" he asked. Hermione bit her lip and thought for a second.

"Tom you have to understand that no one is meant to know about the future, Cedric and I are a very rare case that only came to be because of such a dire situation, there are some things I can't tell you, because no one should know, there are time laws," Hermione told him, he nodded. "I shall skip on the details there was a social divide and a ministry that wasn't working, a few occasions acted as catalysts and we were thrown into out and out warfare."

"I understand," Tom said his face serious. "How are you going to do this, how does this correlate with you being at Hogwarts?"

"I have no NEWTs, I couldn't take them in my time and Cedric and I felt it was important to complete this area of our study, as well as forming relationships with teachers and officials who could help with our cause."

"So Dumbledore knows," Tom guessed.

"He does," Hermione said, stretching the truth. "He knows." Tom looked pensive, intrigued by this new revelation.

"Why are you just telling me this?" Tom asked. "I was expecting a denial, a fight." Hermione pondered for a second.

"You're too smart not to know I was lying and you'd figure it out anyway," she answered. "Besides, I hated lying to you, I thought you'd be angry."

"So you're not going back, to the future?" he asked. Hermione's lips quirked at the phrasing.

"Couldn't even if I wanted to," Hermione said.

"There is no use asking you how you did it, is there?"

"I wouldn't be able to tell you even if I wanted to," she said. "It is mind-blowingly complex."

"Did you know me?" Tom asked in a small voice. "In the future."

Hermione bit her lip and looked intently at the boy in front of her. The handsome prefect, just seventeen years old who looked at her like he cared. Who acted like he was trying to prove himself to her.

"No," Hermione said. "I never met a Tom Riddle."

"But did you hear of me?" he asked. Hermione knew what the right answer was. If she said no he would be distraught and try anything to make sure he was remembered.

"I can't tell you how," Hermione said firmly. "That would be cheating." A genuine smile lit up his face.

"It was a wise decision to tell him what you did, I think Hermione," Dumbledore said over his steepled fingers. Hermione had told the Professor about the afternoon's events. "You are sure he knows to still call you Hermione Wembdon in public?"

"Yes, but I don't understand why he wasn't more upset about me keeping things from him, why he didn't demand to know everything I knew," she said.

"Give him credit Hermione, he is bright and will have understood every one of the multiple books about time a student of his calibre would have read. He will comprehend fully the concept of how dangerous messing with time can be. I think that you told him just enough to stop him from asking questions, but little enough that thinks that it would be dangerous for him to know more," Dumbledore said. "He is a logical boy, he could not have expected you to tell just anyone."

"I suspect you're right," Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. "I just can't be sure that he isn't holed up somewhere thinking of ways to use what he now knows against our cause."

"In that case," he replied slowly, a devious twinkle in his eye. "We need to do something to occupy his mind."

"You sound as if you have a plan," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes. "I'm sure I will disapprove already."

"I think that you and Mr Riddle should invent a potion," Dumbledore said, Hermione stayed silent waiting for him to continue. "It would keep his mind occupied with thoughts of impending success in the short term and when the coming fame and distinction befalls him he may find that doing similar feats of ingenuity will satisfy him to the point of not wanting to start wars."

"And what exactly did you have in mind Professor," Hermione asked in a low voice.

"I think sometime in the next week you should run to dear Tom and tell him of your sudden stroke of brilliance and ask him for his help to invent Wolfsbane potion," Dumbledore said with a small smile.

"No!" Hermione said, shocked. "Professor, Damocles is not due to invent that until the seventies, I can't steal someone else's discovery, that is immoral and… and…"

"He was of my students you know, brilliant mind, obviously. But I do not doubt, that had he had Wolfsbane as a starting block and not used so many years of his life developing it, he would have built upon that discovery and advanced the cure more than any other has been able to. Think of all the lives that could be saved, the help it would bring to those in need, the medical advancements he could make if Wolfsbane was already common knowledge. You cannot call that immoral, Hermione."

"I don't like the idea," Hermione said grudgingly. "It would feel like stealing." Dumbledore sighed a long suffering sigh and surveyed her over his spectacles.

"Would it make you feel better if you created your own method of making the potion," he asked. Hermione bit her lip, slightly more tempted.

"Possibly," she bit out. "I'll have to think about it."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together. "That's practically an agreement. I suggest you take out an inordinate amount of potions books from the library and ask Horace a few vague questions to set yourself up, keep up appearances and then get to work. I shall have a potions room set up for you to use at your leisure."

"You seemed to have planned this very thoroughly considering _I have not yet agreed_ to this scheme," Hermione accused.

"Ah but I knew you'd come round," he replied with a fatherly wink. Hermione rose from her chair, jaw set.

"You are a manipulative man Dumbledore," she said huffily, straightening her robes. "And that potions room better not be in the creepy dungeons or I will have your head!" With that she turned on her heel and made to leave the room.

"I'll take that as you accept!" Dumbledore called cheerfully as she stormed out. The only sound he heard in confirmation was an indignant 'hmph.'

"Miss Wembdon, it is a pleasure to see you here," the shopkeeper gushed bowing low as Hermione entered the menagerie. "I am a huge admirer."

"Thank you sir, but forgive me I am uncertain of your name," Hermione said politely, lowering the hood of her long robes as she entered from the icy rain which pelted outside.

"Mr Parin," the gentleman said, bowing low again. "What brings you looking at magical creatures, I did not know Hogwarts students were allowed into London in term time."

"I was allowed to come to Diagon Alley to purchase my new wand," Hermione replied.

"Of course, of course how silly of me, I remember reading about it," he said quickly. "What can I help you with?"

"I was wondering if you could get hold of any of the creatures on this list for me," she said, handing him the piece of parchment.

"We have most of these in stock," he replied with a smile.

An hour later Hermione left the dark, warm shop with two large baskets in her arms, and her purse still full of galleons, nobody had allowed 'their heroine' to pay for anything, much to her chagrin.

She had come away with three types of creatures which she was going to add to her greenhouse, part of her master plan was creating an environment where creatures could thrive, so she picked up a pair of parrots which could be taught to warble tunes, a small, bright orange monkey about the size of Hermione's palm that had tails as long her forearm and a butterfly which changed colour depending on the acidity of the soil in which the plants it fed off were planted in.

There was only one item she had left to buy, the actual reason she was visiting Diagon Alley. With a heavy heart she made her way to Ollivander's.

"Ah, Miss Wembdon I was expecting you to visit," the old man said warmly. He didn't look any younger than he did when Hermione bought her first wand, sixty years in the future.

"Good morning Mr Ollivander," Hermione greeted. "I'm here to buy a new wand, as I'm sure you are aware."

"Of course Madame, let's get started straight away then shall we," he said, moving back into the towering shelves.

Over an hour and thirty different wands later Mr Ollivander came out from between them again, not at all disheartened, he seemed only more excitable about the lack of progress they had made.

"It is always difficult to find a new suitable wand when you have lost your original Miss Wembdon, not to worry, here," he handed her a long thin box. "Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather, quite supple."

Hermione's eyes widened as she heard the description of this wand and it was with slightly shaky fingers that she reached out to pick it up. Her fears were founded.

A warmth spread through her fingers as her skin first brushed the wood, her hair billowed backwards as if a gust of wind had suddenly appeared in the shop.

"Ah, there we have it," Ollivander said happily.

"No," Hermione choked out. "No I can't have this wand, we should continue."

"Miss Wembdon," the wandmaker said looking at her over his silver spectacles. "The wand chooses the witch, no other wand will choose you, now this one has. It is this wand or no wand I'm afraid, that is how wand lore works."

"Then I'll take it," she said in a small voice.

This concluded her shopping for the day so she made her way to the apparation point at the end of the precinct and apparated back to the school gates, ready to introduce the animals to their new home.

Hermione sighed and knocked on the heavy wooden door of Slughorn's office, why was she doing this for Dumbledore?

"Miss Wembdon! Do come in!" Slughorn said enthusiastically, ushering her in and offering her a cup of tea. "What can I do for you my dear," he said, sipping from his cup.

"I was hoping for some potions advice Sir," she said brightly.

"Oh, fire away, fire away," he replied excitedly.

"If you were brewing Aconite for use in a potion, how long would you brew it for to yield most efficient results? I was thinking two days over a low heat but I wanted a second opinion," Hermione said professionally.

"Yes m'girl, that would work well indeed, but here's a little tip, using a silver cauldron almost doubles the potency of the ingredient!"

"I wouldn't have thought to try that professor, thank you," Hermione said. "What are your opinions the best method cutting Flitterbloom?"

"Ah, length ways, tricky but much better for the stability of the end product," the potions master replied knowledgably.

"I read somewhere that a curved blade is useful," Hermione said, sounding encyclopaedic.

"I've never tried it personally but I doubt it could do any harm," Slughorn said, obviously impressed with her knowledge on the subject. "May I ask why you are asking?"

"Just a private project I am thinking of starting," Hermione said vaguely.

"By yourself, Miss Wembdon?" Slughorn asked. "I am always here to be of service for such an exemplar pupil you know."

"Thank you Professor I really appreciate it," she said. "I don't know what I'm going to do, I really just had a stroke of inspiration and if I get the time I think I shall pursue it… I may ask Tom to assist me, if he thinks it worthwhile."

"Oh ho ho," Slughorn chortled giving her a knowing wink. "Best two potioneers I've ever had working together on a secret project, I can hardly wait to see the results. You and Mr Riddle must come to my little soiree this weekend, it is in your honour of course. Mr Amos has already confirmed his attendance!"

"Professor please, you bestow us far too much praise as it is, let us come as inconspicuous guests I beg," Hermione beseeched.

"Oh very well, I will not shine the spotlight on you too much," he said like an indulgent uncle. "But you will be there."

"I will have to check with Tom but I expect so," she said. "I'd love to come."

"Excellent," Slughorn said clapping his hands together. "You and Mr Riddle have been courting for quite some time now."

"Actually we only started dating the week before the holidays started, at your last party," Hermione said. "It hasn't been very long at all." Slughorn chuckled again.

"You can't pull the wool over my eyes Miss Wembdon, I've seen you two with each other for months, though if you would like to use my little get together as the pretence of your union then by all means do," he chuckled. "But I can spot a loved up couple one I see one!" Hermione forced a smile on her face.

"Thank you for your help Professor," Hermione said graciously. "If you'll excuse me I think my godfather would like to see the purchases I made in Diagon Alley before dinner."

"Of course my dear girl, do go on, did you get that new wand?"

"Yes Professor," Hermione said, fingering the handle through her robes. "I did."

How on earth was she going to explain this to Dumbledore and Cedric?

_**(AN- I want to say I am so, so, so, so, sorry for not updating sooner. It has been a hectic few months and I am going to make excuses to stop you all from sending me nasty messages; I've been very ill, I started college, one of my best friends sadly died and my brother and his wife gave birth, eventually, to a beautiful baby girl. Due to all these reasons I have not had the time, or I'll be honest any willpower at all to do anything remotely like updating and I just want to say that I am so, so thankful for all your lovely reviews and I hope you can forgive me for being such a horrible author. Updates may not be very frequent from now on, but I promise that they will happen and I will work my hardest to find the enthusiasm and drive to write again- these past few months have been hard and taken that away from me. Thanks to all of you again.)**_

**Chapter Sixty-One- It's Forbidden For A Reason**

"Mione!" came a call from behind her as she slowly climbed the grand staircase.

"Hi Cedric," she sighed turning around as he jogged to catch her up.

"Hey," he said with a breathless grin. "How was Diagon?"

"Interesting," she said with a deadpan expression, folding her arms across her chest and shaking her head. "I'm just on my way to tell Albus about it."

"What happened?" he asked, a concerned frown on his face. "Did you not find a new wand?"

"I did… guess which one," she said, not looking him in favour of the stone stair he was stood on.

"I can't guess which wand you- wait… you haven't," he said slowly, almost accusingly. Hermione didn't look at him, which solidified his fears. "You got someone else's wand didn't you?" She nodded once. "Who's?"

Hermione took a deep breath and looked into his grey eyes. "Harry's."

Cedric visibly cringed.

"Should I tell Dumbledore?" she asked. He nodded once.

"He'll have some advice," he said confidently. "He'll know what this means."

He didn't know what it meant.

"I'm sure it will all make sense in time," the old man had said mysteriously, twiddling the end of his beard.

"Well that was a waste of time," Cedric muttered as they closed the door of Dumbledore's office behind them. Hermione just shrugged and trudged dejectedly along the corridor. Night had fallen quickly out in the grounds, the low, dark clouds shielding the ground from frost, despite the bitter January weather.

"I have an idea," Cedric murmured, gazing out of the window. "Grab your thick cloak and meet me in the Entrance Hall."

"Cedric Jasper Diggory," Hermione hissed glaring at him, all her previous surliness dissipated. "What are you planning?"

"You'll see!"

As promised Hermione met Cedric in the Entrance Hall as soon as she had pulled her cloak off the hook in her dorm and ran down the Grand Staircase again, taking two steps at a time. Nobody was about in the corridors to question where she was going.

"Ready?" she asked, flinging the heavy material around her shoulders as she flew down the last steps and into the Entrance Hall.

"Took you long enough," he teased, from leaning casually on the Hufflepuff hourglass. "Now come on, we're going into the forest."

"The forest?" Hermione repeated in surprise. "What on earth for?"

"We want someone to tell us what your new wand means, don't we?" Cedric asked.

"What does that have to with the forest?" she asked, before adding sarcastically. "We're not going to see Aragog are we?"

"Perhaps I should rephrase the question," he sighed, unsure of why she was being so dense. "We want _somethings _to tell us what it means, it might even be useful if they have some sort of divination prowess…"

"Oh," Hermione gasped in realization. "The centaurs!"

"There we go," he replied patronizingly, grinning at her coyly.

"Okay, okay," she conceded. "That did take a little while. It's been a long day. Let's go to the centaurs."

Both were bundled beneath their cloaks, hoods drawn up around their heads as they stepped cautiously though the trees. It would not do alert other creatures to their presence, more dangerous and hostile than the centaurs.

"How do you think we find them?" Cedric whispered as they picked their way along a winding trodden track through the trees. "It wasn't this hard last time."

"They trapped _us_ last time," Hermione pointed out.

Cedric was silent for a moment, but then nodded in agreement.

"Do you think if we send a patronus, they might come to us," he suggested. Hermione didn't reply but extended her new wand out in front of her.

"Expecto Patronum," she whispered, the usual, lumbering silver bear erupted from her wand and reared up on its thick back legs. It turned its head left and right, peering through the gloom before setting down onto four paws and charging forwards along the path, then veering sharply to the right.

"Shall we follow?" Cedric asked his partner. She nodded in reply and as fast as they could over the uneven ground ran in the direction the bear took- deeper and deeper into the forest.

"Wait…" Hermione said, skidding slightly as she ground to a halt. Cedric stopped just a few feet in front of her. "Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?" he asked, concern evident in the set of his brow.

"It feels like we're…" Hermione tried to say. "I'm not entirely sure… something feels odd. Like we're being-"

"What was that noise?" Cedric demanded, his wand out in front of him, lighting the trees around them. Both of them froze, ears straining to hear it again. Sure enough as soon as they were silent they heard it again, rustling. Like something sliding over the crisp, cold leaf litter on the forest floor.

"That doesn't sound like centaurs," he murmured to Hermione, orientating his body so that he was in front of her. But neither knew exactly where the rustling was coming from- it was like it was coming from different directions.

"Cedric!" Hermione squeaked, pointing toward a close cluster of trees. Just on the edge of the wand light, hovering on the edge was a dark shape. Like a suspended black silken shroud, hanging in mid-air, billowing downward despite the lack of breeze.

"This is impossible," Cedric gasped, clenching his wand. "We're much too far north."

"I thought Lethifolds only appear in the tropics," Hermione whimpered.

"So did I," Cedric whispered, not taking his wand off the creature. Slowly Hermione turned, scanning through the trees and standing so they were back to back.

"There is two more behind us," she informed him in a low voice that was shaking dangerously as she grabbed his free hand for comfort.

Lethifolds were terrifying creatures when they were acting as they should- preying on sleeping humans in the tropics. But here, no one knew what they could do.

"How can we kill a lethifold?" Cedric asked. "You've read books."

"We can't," Hermione answered. "They can be driven off by a patronus, or they can be killed if the caster is strong enough to manage to control the elements enough to bring down the temperature. But if they're here… in Scotland in January then the amount we would have to lower the temperature would kill us too."

"There's nothing else we can do?" Cedric asked somewhat desperately.

"We're surrounded," she whispered. "I don't know of any spell which can get us out of this."

"Why aren't they attacking us?" he asked.

"They usually only attack when their victims are asleep, but these aren't usual Lethifolds… I have no idea," she replied.

"Oh," Cedric said uneasily. "Well we're screwed really aren't we?" Hermione nodded slowly. "Well if we do die Granger, I just want you to know; you're my best friend and I love you, very much."

"I love you too Ced, don't know what I'd do without you," she replied in a matter of fact tone. "If this situation wasn't so life-threatening I would hug you, but that would mean lowering my wand."

"It's the thought that counts," he replied, with a weak smile. They stay silent for a moment.

"We're being silly," Hermione said taking a deep breath. "We need to calm down and think logically."

"We didn't come all this way to be ambushed in the forest by Lethifolds and let all this work go to waste," he agreed strongly.

"Correct," she said, raising her chin and setting her jaw. "I've still got no idea how to get us out of this though."

"Me neither," he said quickly, biting his lip and squeezing her hand a little tighter.

"Cedric," Hermione said warningly, clutching his hand in fright as the creatures started to move. "Cedric," she repeated, panic seeping into her tone. He dropped her hand and pulled her into his chest, sheltering her with his body. The Lethifolds moved slowly, stopping and starting as though they were walking across a bridge and they weren't sure if the next step would send them plummeting into the river below.

"There has got to be something we can do," he muttered. "Hermione we've got to run." She nodded and grasped hold of his hand once again, they both aligned themselves so they were toward the largest gap between two of the creatures.

"Now?"

"Now," he confirmed and the two of them set off at a sprint, hands gripping each other so hard their knuckles were white with the pressure. Cedric, having longer legs was in front of Hermione and managed to get past the Lethifold before they closed in, Hermione was less lucky.

With a guttural scream her ankle twisted under a protruding tree root and her right leg crumbled beneath her, her hand was wrenched from Cedric's and she tumbled to the ground. Quickly she tried to stand, but again her leg failed her and she landed with a thud on the chilled earth. Cedric, fuelled by the momentum of their run was sent plummeting into the trees several yards ahead.

The Lethifolds saw their advantage and started to move toward Hermione.

"Cedric," she screamed. "You have to run." But the command died in her throat as they got nearer. Panicking she grasped at her throat, gasping for breath that would not come. Her airways were being constricted by the beasts.

"Hermione!" he shouted brandishing his wand and praying to any god who would listen that this would work.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, the Lethifolds were blown back several feet by the silver spell but it did not have the effect it should have, had they been usual Lethifolds. But it was enough for Cedric to slide down next to Hermione and sling her arm round his shoulder, she was gasping and retching- her lungs having been starved of the cold night air.

"Cedric I can't walk, go," she tried to tell him, but her protests fell on deaf ears.

"Brace yourself," he told her, pointing his wand at the floor a few feet away. "Ascendio!" He cried, taking inspiration from what Dumbledore had told him about Hermione getting out of the Chamber alive.

Both of their bodies were shot up into the sky through the canopy like a cannonball, Hermione screwed up her eyes and screamed all the way, not being a fan of flying at all. Cedric on the other hand screamed as soon as their ascent stopped and they began plunging toward the treetops.

They landed with a thump on the cold, hard ground. Cedric felt a few of his ribs snap on impact and the familiar white hot pain of bones breaking.

"Hermione," he croaked, clutching at his chest and trying to position himself where he could get up. Her face was bloody where she had been scratched falling through the trees and he could bet even without a mirror that he was even worse, judging by the amount of blood that was dripping into his eyes.

"Cedric," she said through gritted teeth. "My ankle, I think it's broken."

"Come on," he said. "We've got to get out of here." Hermione mumbled her agreement and allowed a staggering Cedric, still clutching his broken ribs to support her weight as the made their painstakingly slow way out of the forest.

"Don't use magic," Hermione warned him. "I'm sure my patronus was what alerted them to our presence."

After what seemed like weeks of walking, battered and bruised the trees finally started to thin, the ground got more even, until at last they could see the lights of the castle and trees turned into sloping lawns.

It wasn't until their hands touched the heavy oak of the Entrance Hall door that they finally accepted that they were safe and the adrenaline started to flee their veins, making the pain even more unbearable.

**(AN- I'm so sorry. That's all I can say. And I love you all more than I can express and I am just so sorry. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you all.)**

Hermione sat on the steps to the Entrance Hall, looking out over the misty grounds, bathed in the bleary morning light. She was deep in thought she did not notice Tom joining her until her was already sat down beside her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, planting a soft kiss on her cheek and gently putting his arms around her.

"Fine," she replied, her voice hoarse. "I just want to know what is happening out there, why was the magic so dark it attracted lethifolds, where were the centaurs, the other creatures of the forest."

Tom was silent.

"Hermione, every time you get into this trouble something becomes more apparent to me," he said in a low voice. She turned to face him, he was looking straight into her eyes and she was overwhelmed by the fondness of his gaze.

"What's that?" she asked.

He was silent for a moment, and she could see how he wished to look away, but he did not.

"Hermione, I'm not a good person," he said softly. "I never thought I would be, until I met you. I don't want to be, but you make me a better person and you have no idea how irritating that is."

She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off.

"Don't," he said. "Or I will never say it."

She gazed into his deep eyes, brows furrowed in puzzlement.

"I love you," he said simply. "And I hate for you making me do it, but I do, I love you."

"You are the worst human being I have ever met," was what Hermione decided to reward his declaration with. "But despite all your abhorrent qualities," she gave him a smirk. "I think I might just love you too."

Tom's smile lit up his face, his eyes sparkling before he pressed his lips to Hermione's and kissed her so tenderly she almost forgot she was kissing the Dark Lord.

"Stay with me, Hermione," he murmured, eyes closed, his lips brushing hers as she spoke. "Make me a better person."

"Ok," she replied in a whisper, her heart elating at this prospect.

"Forever?" he asked, his gaze locking with hers. Hermione swallowed, but she knew what she wanted to do.

"I love you Tom," she said surely. "Forever."

And for a moment she was so happy, she didn't notice his wand until it was too late.

Hermione faded in consciousness, every inch of her body felt nauseous, and the pain, the pain was almost unbearable. Her eyes flitted open, she was in the forbidden forest, the trees cast the shadows so dark she wondered if any light ever ventured here.

Tom sat beside her, he was curled up, his face drawn.

He was covered in blood.

She glanced down, so was she.

"What happened?" she asked, she was in too much pain to be afraid. A strange serenity had settled over her.

Tears ran down his face and despite her pain she felt sorry for him. He was crying. He was the dark lord.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I am so so sorry. I just wanted you to stay with me, forever. I couldn't have you leave me. I didn't realise. I didn't know."

"What have you done?" she asked, her voice like sandpaper.

"I thought it was fool proof," he murmured. "I thought we would never die, and we could spend forever together."

Realisation hit her, what had she said. Forever.

"I thought that when you said forever you meant it the same way I did, but you didn't," he murmured. "I got it wrong, it won't work, you don't _want_ to live forever."

"I'm dying," she murmured and as she said it, she knew it was true. She could feel her soul slowly slipping from her body.

"Get Cedric. I need Cedric."

He looked pained by her request but he nodded.

"I can't leave you," he said. "What if… you can't be alone."

"Hand me my wand," she ordered with a force that could hardly be expected from one so weak.

"Hermione," he said with such sorrow. "You can't."

"I can," she said and as soon as the wand was placed in her hand she knew that she was right. Harry was with her in her last moments, within this wand. He would help her; give her the strength to do this. She couldn't leave this place without saying goodbye to her soul mate. She knew now, her and Cedric were meant to be together, perhaps not romantically but as best friends and partners. She needed to see him before she died, her magic could do it.

Sure enough, without her even trying silver shot from her wand. Her magic was taking over instinctually, she was definitely dying.

"This is why the lethifolds attacked us," Hermione said softly. It had all become so clear. "You were planning the ritual to become immortal."

Tom nodded, his beautiful face contorted with his immense guilt and grief.

"Are you not going to hold my hand as I die?" she asked hoarsely. He nodded, and clutched hold of her hand as if it would save her.

"I'm sorry," he chanted over and over. "I tried to stop it I swear. I swear. I would be a good person for the rest of my life if only it would stop you from dying. I would give you my own life. I swear I would, if only I could."

"Nothing will," she sighed, her own eyes stinging with tears. "I want you to promise something Tom."

"Anything."

"Make me an unbreakable vow, that you will dedicate your life for the greater good of humanity, not the dark arts," she instructed. Their gazes locked. He was silent.

"You have done this to me, Tom," she pointed out weakly. "I am dying because of you and I love you. Surely you know now that Dark Magic should not be taken too far. Immortality is something you do not want."

"I will," he said, drawing his wand once more. "I will promise."

As the magic enveloped them both sealing their vow, Cedric burst through the trees.

"Hermione," he choked out, his breath catching in his throat. "Oh Merlin, no, please."

He clutched at her hands.

"Please no, I can feel it. Your magic, everything."

"I am dying Ced," she murmured. He was silent. But he did not deny it. He could feel it in his magic, his bones and every ounce of his being.

"Hermione Jean Granger you are the most beautiful person I have ever met," he breathed. Pressing kisses over her face, his tears mingling with her blood on his lips. "Please don't leave me."

"I have to," she whispered.

"I know," he sighed, tears streaming from his eyes. His face now smeared with blood. "I know. But oh gods I think I might die too. What am I supposed to do without you?"

"You're going to be fantastic Ced, you're going to save the world. You're going to help Tom."

"I will kill him Granger," he said, his voice deathly seriously. "I will not taint your last breaths but I will kill him." Hermione lifted her hands to his temples and transferred her memories to him. All the times he had shown humanity, all the times he had shown her affection and even love but most importantly his vow.

Cedric gasped as they unlocked and cast a look at Tom, he was crying. Tears streaming down his face, fists clenched in pain.

"For you I would do anything," he said sincerely. "But…" he paused. Hermione tried to convey everything she was feeling into her gaze, she was begging him.

"I would even do this," he finally whispered.

"Riddle," he barked. "You murdered her, you might as well hold her hand." The look Tom gave him was of such relief.

He placed kisses up and down her arm.

"Cedric," she whispered. "I wish to die looking like me."

He nodded and removed all her charms. Her hair became wild and unruly and her face became as it was naturally.

Both took an intake of breath. Tom had never seen her so radiant, and Cedric could hardly believe he could have forgotten this.

"Remember me Tom, remember what happened," she instructed, her voice becoming softer, more pained with every word. .

"Every day for the rest of my life," he vowed, smoothing back her wild hair and tracing the outlines of her face. "I will never, ever forget."

"I want you both to cover this up, I died from my wounds, Cedric you know how to do that," she said, forcing a fresh wave of tears from her best friend.

"And then I want you both to be the best human beings, change our future."

Cedric nodded.

"I will be strong for you," he said, cradling her in his arms, as if he could protect her when death came. "I will continue our mission."

"And look after Albus," she prompted with a smile.

"Yes," he sighed, laughing despite the situation. "And of course I will look after Albus."

"I love you," she said honestly. "Cedric you are my best friend and… and you know everything I want to say. I just wish I didn't have to leave you." Cedric could see her faltering, so he nodded and let her continue.

"And as stupid as I am," she whispered. "I love you too Tom."

"And I love you, my beautiful Hermione," he whispered, his voice like a prayer reverent and repentant.

She took a deep rattling breath.

"I love you both."

Cedric knew it was time.

"Say hi to everyone for me, Goodbye Granger. I love you. "

"No Hermione, don't leave me please, oh gods no I love you too much to let you leave me. I'm sorry. No. No."

And then the light left her eyes, and her breath stilled in her throat.

Tom let out a scream of anguish, crumpling to the floor in his agony.

Cedric looked on, his face calm. Gently, he closed her eyes and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Then as if on autopilot, he performed the magic she had requested.

Then he turned to Tom, his jaw set hard. His hand twitched toward his wand as his fury reared within him.

Six syllables would be all it would take.

But then he remembered her smile, her eyes and the feel of her embrace. He remembered every time they had laughed until they cried, every time they had wept themselves to sleep in the arms of each other, every time they had fought side by side and every time her smile had lit up his world like no one else.

He looked to Tom, and then he looked at her bloodied form.

She had hope for Tom.

And they were one in the same.

"You and me Granger," he murmured, his heart buoyed by his memories.

And then he looked back to the man who had taken literally everything from him.

Every person he had loved, one by one.

And he laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

**Epilogue**

The tenth anniversary of Hermione's death brought many people to a statue of a beautiful, curly haired witched wrought in gold in the atrium of the ministry of magic.

Cedric watched on as a minister said a few words, ending with the words on the statue.

"_Bravery, compassion and brilliance for the greater good."_

Tears stung at his eyes, but he kept them hidden. The hand on his squeezed tighter and looked towards the woman on his right. She gave him a sad, sympathetic smile and brushed the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

"It's okay Clauds," he murmured and she nodded, giving her a small smile. She nodded. The service ended with a minute of silence and Cedric was left with his thoughts.

The memory of her wild hair, deep, dark eyes and infectious smile had been imprinted behind his eyes for ten years, not yet in danger of fading. He cast his gaze around. He saw Alina, who had stayed with him from time to time, international Quidditch star, Krum and writer, Antonin Dolohov. He hadn't seen Tom today so far. But finally his gaze landed on his dark, brooding form alone in the corner, right by the door.

He should have known he would not have missed today.

He was still handsome; sometimes he looked a bit drawn and pale, but never unearthly and cruel.

Cedric laid another kiss on his wife's head and weaved his way through the small crowd of people, stopping to shake hands with many of their old classmates.

He stopped by Tom.

"Good day," he said to him. He only nodded in reply; he could see the tears in his eyes. Cedric took a deep breath and once again laid a hand on his shoulder. He never thought Tom would have upheld his vow to Hermione, he figured he would have found a loophole to her words. But as far as he knew he hadn't tried.

"I trust you remember that Albus and I are due to start our inspection tomorrow," he said casually, Cedric knew neither of them wished to talk about who they had lost.

"Of course Minister," he replied in a slightly strangled voice.

"We expect to see as many good improvements to the school as last time," Cedric said professionally, but his voice was slightly softer. He was loathed to admit it, but he was actually proud of Tom.  
He had never betrayed Hermione.

"I will see you in the morning then headmaster."

_Harry was laughing, his bright green eyes sparkling with mirth as he embraced her. Ron jostled for his turn and jumped on her with such enthusiasm before drawing back sheepishly, rubbing his red neck. Ginny was crying as she pushed her brother out of the way, sobbing how much she had missed her. She went through them all._

_She relished the warm comfort of her parents, the warm greetings of Parvarti, Lavender and Cho. Fleur's stunning smile and delicate embrace, the way Fred and George knocked and jostled her, teased her and laughed boisterously. Neville, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Luna, __**everyone.**_

_Finally they parted and Oliver stood within the sea of them all, arms open and beaming. She felt the tears streaming down her face as she leaped into his arms and kissed him with all the fervour of how much she had missed him._

"_I've missed you Mione," he murmured, pushing her hair out of her face to look at her better._

"_I've missed you Oliver," she replied, crushing herself to his chest. "But," Oliver pressed a finger to her lips._

"_I know about Riddle," he said with a smile. "I know, I saw everything." Hermione felt so very nervous he would be angry and push her away, but his smile got even wider._

"_I'm so proud of you, you really are a lioness. And so you know he respected his promise to you. I'll tell you all about what he did before we leave, and then you can experience the changes first-hand."_

"_What?" she asked, bewildered, but so happy to be in his arms once again._

"_We've been waiting for you for a while Hermione," Harry interjected. "We've learnt a bit about the universe whilst we've been here."_

"_A bit about fate, a bit about the gods," Ron contributed._

"_We are going to go back to the beginning," Oliver said. "Well to our first day at Hogwarts. But we are soul mates, all of us. That's how the universe works apparently, our souls are bound to each other forever in all our lives. Harry, Ron, Ginny are destined to be your closest friends for all your life, you are destined to meet Viktor and Fleur when they travel to England and become close to them and we are destined to be together."_

"_And what about Ced?" she asked her stomach turning nervously, because they messed with time was he being left behind. Lots of people let out a laugh._

"_Why do you think we haven't gone all ready?" Ginny asked. "Who do you think we're waiting for?"_

"_It sounds horrible, but we're just waiting for Cedric to die," Fred said, laughing uneasily._

"_More, for that life to end so he can start again," George corrected._

"_Because you changed Tom Riddle, the single man who changed the course of history, the fates or the gods or whatever is that controls this absolutely mental universe," Fred said._

"_We all get to try our lives out again, and this time no wars are going to take us before our time," George finished._

"_All thanks to you, Albus and Cedric," Harry said with a smile. Hermione smiled, but it didn't quite meet her eyes, she was going to miss all her forties friends terribly. But she could not let them know. She quashed this feeling, she was just so relieved and grateful to see all her friends again._

"_He's going to be here soon," Luna said, looking around the empty space vacantly._

"_Are you going to kiss me one more time before we forget all this and have to fall in love all over again Hermione?" Oliver asked._

"_Yes," she said, pressing their lips together tenderly. "I love you."_

"_And I will love you for eternity."_

"_But only because he doesn't have a choice!" she laughed as Oliver thumped Fred, and kissed her again._

"_Because we are made for each other, believe it or not," Oliver murmured against her lips._

_Maybe she was hallucinating and this was all in her mind. But then maybe all of her life had just been in her mind._

_This could be heaven, reality or own twisted consciousness._

_But even whichever it was, she did not care._

_She was happy._

A girl with bushy brown hair and slightly buck teeth sat alone on a train. She was so, so nervous. She looked back down at her book, she was desperate not to be behind in this new, glorious magical world.

She jumped a mile when someone knocked on the door, two boys put their heads around the sliding door.

"Can we sit here?" a small, ginger boy with freckles over his nose asked with forwardness verging on rudeness. She nodded quickly.

"Sorry about him," the second one said, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. "My name is Harry Potter, and this is Ron Weasley." He extended a hand which Hermione shook eagerly.

"Hermione Granger," she replied, giving them both a smile.

"Have you met any of my brothers yet?" Ron asked, dropping into a seat and putting his feet up on the chair opposite him, right by Hermione.

"I don't think so," she replied.

"Well I'm eighth of nine, so that's good going," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Nine?" Hermione repeated awestruck.

"Yeah, Bill and Charlie have left. Percy's a prefect, Fred and George are in third year and twins, can't tell them apart. And Septimus and Venres are twins too, in second year, they are almost as bad as Fred and George and my sister is going to come to Hogwarts next year."

"I hope the three of us are in Gryffindor."

"Did I hear something about Gryffindor?" came a boisterous shout as the door slid open again. Four redheads slipped into the carriage.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your friends Ronniekins?" one demanded that looked older.

"No," Ron said embarrassedly, his face red.

"So impolite."

"My name is Fred," the same boy announced. "This is my twin George and these are Seppy and Venny, our young protégées." The two younger saluted.

"It's nice to meet you," she replied. "My name is Hermione."

Fred gave her a broad smile and turned to his brother.

"You should take notes from Hermione here Ronniekins, Professor Riddle has Filch hangs antisocial little toads from the astronomy tower."

Hermione didn't know why, but she smiled the whole journey to school, elated by the belief that she had just embarked on the best years of her life, in the most wonderful secret world, surrounded by people she already felt affection for.

She was happy, and judging by the easy, carefree smiles of the people around her, she guessed they were too.

**The 2****nd**** epilogue**

The last of the applause died down.

Hermione, squeezed between her new friends Ron and Harry watched as the sorting hat was removed from the hall by Professor McGonagall.

Suddenly there was silence.

Her eyes flicked up to the high table.

The headmaster had stood from his chair, his presence commanded attention immediately. No one dared speak.

Hermione watched him; his movements were slow and purposeful. He looked perhaps thirty five and then good for his age. But Hermione had heard earlier that he was a teacher here when Ron's parents came to Hogwarts, and they had nine children over ten, so he couldn't look his age.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he said, his voice was deep, slow and quiet, like he knew everyone in the hall was watching him intently. "And welcome to our new students." He looked up, eyes sweeping across the hall. As if he was making eye contact with each and every student.

"As always I expect great things from you this year."

Hermione shivered as his eyes locked to her.

Had she imagined it, or had his gaze lingered on her for a fraction of a second longer.

"Let the feast begin."

"Is Professor Riddle always so… intimidating," Harry asked under his breath as he helped himself to potatoes.

Venres laughed aloud.

"Good luck with your meeting with him if you found that scary," he said, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.

"Meeting?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah of course, the headmaster meets all of the new students, to check they are settling in."

Hermione wiped her sweaty palms nervously as she ascended the staircase to the headmaster's office. It was the second week of term and her turn to meet with the headmaster.

Before she reached the door it opened.

"Good afternoon."

Professor Riddle had his back to her, he was looking out over the grounds broodingly, arms braced on the windowsill.

"Good afternoon Professor Riddle," Hermione said, in a voice that sounded as small as she felt.

He turned now and surveyed her for a moment, before drawing his eyes abruptly to the floor and stalking to his chair.

"Take a seat," he instructed. "Tea?"

Hermione nodded as she sat tentatively in the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

"So tell me Miss…" he paused for a moment, as if he were about to say something wrong, or he had just forgotten her name. "Granger. Miss Granger." He took a deep breath. "Are you enjoying Gryffindor?"

She nodded.

Suddenly his eyes flicked to her face, though he could not hold her gaze for long.

"And your classes? I have been told you are already top of the year. Which is your favourite so far?" His words were quicker than they had been at the feast. He was hurrying through them distractedly.

"Transfiguration," she answered without hesitation. "And Potions. They're my favourites. But I like them all. Some of my housemates told me about third year options. Ancient Runes sounds fascinating."

When Tom saw the excitement and anticipation in her eyes his throat closed up. She was already thinking ahead to third year? That was _so Hermione._

He nodded and drew his gaze away from her face.

"Very good," he said after she had reeled off all that she had learnt in her first week. "And your classmates, are they pleasant?"

"Yes sir," she replied. "Most of the time. My friend Venres Weasley is trying to teach me to fly a broom. But I'm not very good."

"It is difficult for those who were not raised in wizarding families," he said fairly. "You must not be disheartened, your peers have been practicing for years most likely and it does not help that you must fly a school broom." He was silent for a moment. "I shall have a better one delivered to you. Though you must not tell anyone where you got it, else I would have to send everyone a new broom."

"A broom sir?" Hermione asked a smile lighting up her face. "Thank you, but what is the occasion?"

Professor Riddle's eyes locked onto hers again.

Were they always that shiny?

"I care very much about the happiness of my students, Miss _Granger," _he said slowly. "You are destined for greatness and if being able to fly with your new friends makes you happy, then…" he paused for a moment. He couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't tell her how he yearned to see her in particular as contented as any witch could be. "You shall be much more inclined to _revise_ enough to fulfil your potential. I do not wish for muggleborn students to have a disadvantage at Hogwarts."

To his own ears it was flimsy. But she was eleven.

"Thank you sir."

He inclined his head in reply.

"You are dismissed."

She nodded and set her cup on his desk.

"Thank you sir," she repeated, giving him a small smile.

Tom rested his face in his hands when the door closed behind her.

"That could have gone a lot worse," he murmured. "Though now I have to buy her a broom."

Today sat somewhere between the day he sorted Cedric Diggory, and the disaster that was the sorting of Oliver Wood. He never had such an overwhelming urge to hex an eleven year into oblivion.

He sighed and looked out the window.

But now he knew such thoughts were ludicrous, that wasn't _his_ Hermione.

His Hermione had been shaped by her experiences, defined by her resilience. This Hermione was innocent and would never have her childhood marred by the experience that made her _his._

Guilt welled within him when he thought of _his _Hermione. Hermione who lost her parents and her friends and still had a heart that loved him, _trusted _him.

This Hermione could have a life full of beauty and happiness. She would. He would make sure of it.

He would not let this Hermione down.

And he would spend the rest of his life repenting for his crimes against the one woman he ever could _almost_ love.

**(A/N- I wasn't planning another epilogue, but I thought this kind of needed addressing. I just wanted to repeat how sorry I am that this story ended the way it did. Reviewers have said it ended too abruptly and some of the ends didn't tie off. You're completely right. Completely. And I apologise. But I cannot write this story anymore. It's something I have tried to overcome but I can't. One of my closest friends helped me and inspired me with this story and as you might know he passed away suddenly. I am so, so, sorry to my readers. But this is physically the only ending I can write- an abrupt one. It hurts to write this story. I tried to write a different, longer, good ending and I just couldn't. So I'm so sorry.**

**In other news I have a new Tom Riddle fic, which I think is better than this one. But I dunno. It's called Black Attraction anyway if anyone did want to look at it. But I'm sure you already hate me too much to read another of my stories.**

**Anyway, thanks again for being so wonderful.)**


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